In the name of Helga: Year One
by Hazel Whinlatter
Summary: Follows ten Hufflepuffs through their first year at Hogwarts. Starring Justin Finch-Fletchley, Ernie McMillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones and some OC's. Category and rating may change later, depending where I go with this. Please R/R!
1. Owl Post

_In the name of Helga_

**_Hazel Whinlatter_**

Owl Post

A letter landed on the doormat of 12, Kensington Avenue just as the sun was rising in the London sky. For eleven year old Justin Finch-Fletchley, and indeed any other small boy, this wasn't a new occurrence – but still he jumped out of bed in his blue and white striped pyjamas and ran out onto the landing, eager to see if this morning the postman had brought him something.

Justin, you see, was the son of a rich and influential couple called Michael and Juliana Finch-Fletchley. In his own school days, Justin's father had been educated at Eton – the famous boys' boarding school – and any day now he expected his son to receive a letter saying that he too had been accepted. It wouldn't be a big surprise if he was. After all, his name had been down since he was born.

Even stood in the doorway of his bedroom, he could see it. Whilst his stomach felt like it was doing somersaults, his legs carried him down the stairs faster than seemed humanly possible for a boy of his age, and upon reaching the hallway, his hands grabbed the letter. The envelope seemed to be made of some kind of thick, yellowing parchment, which puzzled Justin, as his older brother James' had been a normal white one. What puzzled him even more was the writing. It said his name, certainly, and the address was correct; but instead of being in small, neat computer type, it was in hand-written emerald green.

"Strange…" he thought. Turning the letter over, his insides tightened – and he called out to his father. "Dad! I've got a letter!"

Michael Finch-Fletchley – who had been waiting in the kitchen – joined Justin in sitting behind the door. "Well? Is it from Eton?" he said, putting his arm around his son.

"No, Dad" he replied. "Look what it says on the back!" Being careful not to damage the delicate paper, he handed it over and pointed to the name on the back.

The flap of the envelope bore a coat of arms. But this was no ordinary coat of arms – it was in purple wax.

Equally puzzled, father and son looked at each other.

"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"

Whilst the Finch-Fletchley family sat around the kitchen table in bemusement, miles away in the Kentish countryside another family anxiously awaited the arrival of a school letter. This time, however, they knew exactly what to expect.

The Bones family were one of the most renowned Wizard families in Europe.

For centuries back, the Bones' had lived in their little farmhouse – each successive generation hiding their family secret from their non-Wizarding (Muggle) neighbours. To the outside world, they were normal members of the farming community who had built up enough of a nest-egg to send their children away to "some boarding school in Scotland." Of course, they never told anyone the name of this school, because no Muggle knew about Hogwarts' existence. It would be just their luck, after all they had been through, to be discovered and looked upon as freaks by the community with whom they had so much mutual respect.

That was why Margaret Bones was giving her father a telling-off. "Stop pacing up and down!" she said. "You're making Susan even more nervous than she needs to be!" This was true enough. While her mother, grandfather and aunt tried to stay calm; eleven year old Susan Bones was lying in a foetal position on the living room sofa, and hiding behind a curtain of thick red hair. She had never been more nervous in her short life. Unlike her friends at the Muggle Primary School she had previously attended, the man and two women she called "family" were three of the country's most powerful wizards. Her grandfather, Albert, had been an Auror before his retirement – one of the Ministry's finest. Now he was living the simple life, looking after the farm, but wasn't averse to using the odd spell or two to improve the harvest. Her mother, Margaret, had worked as an investigator into magical crime before the death of her husband, and her aunt Beth ran a magical-tutoring business from a store in Diagon Alley.

Coming after so many generations of gifted witches and wizards, Susan was terrified that she'd turn out to be a Squib and ruin her family's expectations. And of course, her own.

So when a small tawny owl fluttered down outside the open window and landed on the sill, a yellowy-coloured envelope in his beak, Susan jumped with excitement higher than any of her family could manage. For yet another generation, a Bones was going to Hogwarts!

At the same time as Susan was celebrating her entry into the world's finest school of magic, Julian Fortescue was still waiting. Unlike Susan, however, he didn't have time to be nervous – his parents, who owned the ice cream parlour on Diagon Alley, had decided that working that morning would be good for him. How wrong they were.

Julian wanted to get into Hogwarts more than anything in the entire world, and he thought about the school as he swept the dust away from the shop front. His older brother, Alan, already went there. It was quite strange, actually – his parents (he had an American mother, Chrissie, and an Italian father, Florean) had met there as exchange students, and had both been sorted into Hufflepuff. Yet for reasons no-one in the family could fathom, Alan had become a Gryffindor. It was Julian's suspicion that his headstrong older brother had wanted to break with tradition and told the hat to put him in another house. But where would the hat put him? He didn't think he would fit in anywhere.

By now, the sun had already risen fully over the rooftops of Diagon Alley, and the morning owl post was late. That is, if it was going to come at all. Julian, who was eleven like Susan and Justin, sighed heavily and sank down into one of the wicker chairs on the shop's terrace. He desperately hoped that he wasn't going to be a squib. "How much worse could things be?" he muttered to himself, as he opened the shop's front entrance. The shop's morning customers began to come in, in dribs and drabs for a morning coffee to start off a day's shopping. One of them was an old man called Dedalus Diggle, who himself had grandchildren at Hogwarts who were all in Ravenclaw. Mr Diggle took off his heavy black coat and helped himself to a chair next to Julian, who was still looking miserable.

"Waiting for your Hogwarts letter, boy?"

Julian nodded. "Doesn't look good though" he sighed, looking up at the morning sky with a wistful look on his face. "Still no sign of the owl coming through". Julian's head sank low onto his knees, and he tried to hide the sadness on his face from Mr Diggle. "At this rate, I'm going to be the first and only Fortescue Squib". This last word, he spat out with such venom that the old man had to lean backwards in order to avoid getting spittle on his shirt.

"You need to be more patient, dear Julian! Look!" said Dedalus, a grin spread wide across his face as he pointed upwards. "Go and get your father!"

"Go and get me for what, Dedalus?" Florean asked, wiping his hands on his apron has he walked out into the sunlight of the Alley. "Mama mia! CHRISSIE! ALAN!" he yelled in his Italian lilt. "It's the Owl Post!"

Julian's heart-rate rocketed skywards once he had seen what Dedalus had been pointing at. A beautiful white snowy owl, with honey coloured eyes and speckles of jet black fluttered down from his perch on a shop umbrella and came to rest at his side. It cocked its head and looked pointedly at him, as if to ask "What are you waiting for?". Every member of the Fortescue family, not to mention the ten or so customers in the shop, held their breath as Julian carefully opened the parchment envelope and hungrily took in the words in emerald green. Finally, he looked up into fourteen pairs of expectant eyes.

The smile escaped him before he knew it. "_I'm in!_" he shouted. Emerging from the scrum-like hug that engulfed him, courtesy of his parents, Alan and Dedalus, he looked at the owl who had made his dreams come true.

"Somebody get her an ice cream!" he said, before pausing. "Wait…can owls _eat_ ice cream?"

Obviously, one of the worries in any magical family at this time of year is that the son or daughter in question won't be a witch or wizard at all. This worry can be significantly increased if the family is part Muggle, and this was the case for the Abbott family, who lived a long way from Justin, Susan and Julian, in Cornwall on England's southern edge.

The Abbotts had one child, a daughter called Hannah. She wasn't quite yet eleven, but had shown some signs of magic from an early age. At one point during her youth, she had trouble explaining herself when her teacher had told her off for talking in class – the teacher's wig set itself on fire, and danced across the classroom, astonishing the class before jumping into the bowl of the class' pet fish. Her wizard father, Anton, had always thought that this proved her witch status – although her Muggle mother, Sarah, suggested that mass hallucinations were common in children who wanted to believe something.

The very fact that Sarah Abbott had no magic in her whatsoever was the family's main worry. Although she had proved to fit into the magical world very well, there was still the possibility that Hannah could have taken after her, and not her father. This was why, on that fateful August morning a few days before Hannah's birthday, she and her parents did the same as the Bones' and gathered in the living room to wait. Hannah passed the time by plaiting and unplaiting her golden blonde pigtails – much to the consternation of her mother.

"Hannah, behave."

"Sorry mum." The tiny girl paused. "Dad?"

"Yes, love?"

"They did say it'd be today…you know, if I'm…"

"Yes Hannah, they did." Anton Abbott sighed and stroked his daughter's hair. He wondered if telling her about Hogwarts and his time there – he had been a Hufflepuff as well – had been a mistake. If there was a chance she would remain Muggle, like her mother, he didn't want her to be too disappointed. Not that there was anything wrong with being Muggle – Sarah herself was a fine woman, and in his own days at Hogwarts, Anton and his best friends, Florean Fortescue and Amos Diggory, had always been friends with the Muggle boys that they knew.

"Dad?"

"What is it now, Hannah?"

Hannah looked out of the window and paused. "What kind of owls do they use at Hogwarts?"

Anton leaned back in his chair and reminisced for a moment. "All sorts. When I was there they had tawny owls, snowy owls, screech owls…"

"What about barn owls?" Hannah interrupted suddenly. "Did they have barn owls at Hogwarts?"

"Yes, they did actually" Mr Abbott mused. "Why do you ask?

"Because…" Hannah gasped as she leapt from the chair, "There's one flying over the roof of _our house!_ And I think it's just landed!"

Hannah was right. As she spoke, something flew down the chimney. It made a dint in the soot as it fell, making a gentle "oompf" that caused the family to rush over to the fireplace. Even though she'd been wanting this for her whole life, Hannah was still in shock. Her arms trembled as she leaned over to pick up the envelope. Holding the heavy parchment at its corner, she slid her fingers beneath the wax seal and broke it open. Like the letters of Justin, Susan and Julian before her, the emerald green ink shone before her eyes –

_Dear Miss Abbott,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts __school__ of __Witchcraft__ and Wizardry…_

"YES!!"

Hannah felt like crying with delight. Putting the letter aside for a moment, she felt herself being gathered into a huge bear hug by her parents and told them that she didn't want to read the rest of the letter yet. Well, she didn't have to – she'd found out what her heart desperately wanted to know.

She, Hannah Abbott, was a witch!

Mr and Mrs Michael Nott, who lived in the northern city of Manchester, were a first generation Wizard family, and very proud of it too, because they had achieved a lot for Muggle borns. They had both attended Hogwarts as children, and indeed had been two of the school's best students – Mr Nott had captained the Ravenclaw Quidditch team – for whom he had been a Beater – and Mrs Nott had been a Ravenclaw prefect. They were quite possibly the last magical family that you'd expect to have a Muggle for a son.

In fact, the Notts did have a son – David, who was eleven and a half – but Michael and Lucinda Nott didn't expect that he had anything but Wizard blood. David, however, considered this expectation to be nothing short of a burden. Today was the day that Hogwarts sent out acceptance letters, and it was business as usual in his house. His dad was humming to himself as he read a copy of the "Daily Prophet", and was just about to head off to work at the Manchester branch of Gringotts Wizard Bank, recently opened 'for the convenience of the northern Wizard community'. His mum was watching the Muggle news and feeding his baby sister Theresa, who had just knocked over a jar of baby food and was attempting to use David for target practice with a spoon. The whole family was so confident that he'd won a place that they hadn't seen fit to change their daily routine around him – an idea that David couldn't decide whether he liked or hated.

He just hoped his family was right.

Michael Nott had a particular fondness for fraternising with the Muggle community, and for this reason they lived amongst non-Wizarding families in a rather smart suburb of the city. It was also the reason the family employed a Muggle gardener. After all, a professional herbologist wearing a lime green cloak and carrying a wand would probably look a tad conspicuous. It was this Muggle gardener, a man in his late fifties called Bob Catchpole, who came walking down the driveway that morning– and for some reason, was eyeing the envelope in his hand with a look that suggested it had just bitten him. In order to let Bob through to the back garden, David rushed to the front door and opened it, calling to him – "Good morning, Bob!"

Bob answered him without taking his eyes from the letter. "Mornin' lad. Letter for you 'ere, dunno how it got there, like." Handing it to David, he walked into the back yard muttering something about never having seen an owl in daytime before, never mind one that had dropped a letter on his head. Turning his head to make sure that Mr Catchpole was a safe enough distance away, David ripped open the envelope eagerly – and had to stop himself from cheering too loud.

"Thank Merlin! I've done it."

Talk about a sigh of relief!

Like the Notts, the Fawcett family were first generation Wizards, and like the Notts, they lived in a northern city – this time, Leeds. What made the families different, however, was that while David's family were relatively calm and laid back, Rebecca Fawcett's household was in complete chaos. To the Muggle eye, their home wasn't much different to that of any of their neighbours'. It was a red brick, two storey tall terraced building with a neatly trimmed lawn at the front – but if a Wizard walked past, they would see a house with what looked like several garden sheds protruding from various points on the roof in place of added rooms, and a garden so wild that comparisons to a jungle would not be unreasonable.

Within the house, there was even more commotion. Mrs Fawcett – a tall, broad woman with hair the colour of burnt copper – was attempting to get all of her children (she had five) to sit down on the same sofa. There was no problem in this, but she was having trouble getting them to do it at the same time. On that crazy July morning, one child had climbed on top of the kitchen side-board, another had hid herself under the coffee table in the living room and was refusing to come out, and a third was throwing crumpled balls of paper at his sister – who was holding onto Mrs Fawcett's leg and refusing to let go. The only person in the house who was sitting quietly was Rebecca, the eldest. Absent-mindedly watching her siblings at play, she was sitting on a rug in front of the fireplace, clasping her hands together in her lap. She was so nervous that she had awoken at 6 am – far earlier than usual – and had earlier been pacing up and down the living room floor, behaviour which had been mirrored by her mother.

Everything in the house had been made ready for the arrival of a possible acceptance. The fireplace, which was normally boarded up in favour of an electric fire, had been opened up and temporarily attached to the Floo network, the curtains had been tied back to give the earliest possible indication of an owl's arrival, and Rebecca herself was presented impeccably. Her shiny bronze curls were pulled back into a ponytail, and to pass the time, she stretched out pieces of hair, winding and unwinding them around her little finger as the stared at the clock.

Just when she least expected it, ten-year-old Rebecca heard something whizzing down the chimney behind her. "Funny" she thought. "The Floo isn't meant to be working till eleven." The noise, however, was nothing to do with Floo powder. Before she had time to realise it, a rectangular-shaped object shot out of the fireplace like a bullet and had hit her right in the back of the head. Rubbing the sore spot with annoyance, she whirled round to look for the offending object – and there it lay. A thick, heavy envelope made of yellowing parchment, with an address in emerald green ink. There was even a purple wax seal on the back – definitely what she'd been told to expect.

Deciding that she'd better get the reading over and done with rather than waiting for her family to settle – which could take an eternity – Rebecca yanked open the envelope and quickly flipped the letter open. Quickly scanning her eyes over its contents, she released a huge breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and held her hands above her head, as if in prayer –

"Thankyou, thankyou, thankyou!" she whispered, "for releasing me from this madhouse!"

The next youngster to receive a letter was another un-expecting Muggle-born, Sally-Anne Perks. As a treat for the holidays, her mum had agreed to take her on a trip from their home in Newcastle to their holiday house in Scotland, where Sally's step-dad worked with animals at the sea-side. Sally loved animals and was terribly excited, so she hardly noticed a scrabbling noise at the window of the kitchen where she and her mother were eating breakfast. Her mother, however, did notice.

"Sal? Can you hear something?" she asked, craning her neck to look but seeing nothing except her reflection in the glass.

"Hear what, mam?"

Mrs Perks sighed and shook her head. "Nothing, love. I'm just imagining things, that's all." Yes, she thought. Imaging things – that was probably it.

Ten minutes later, Sally-Anne – who still couldn't believe her luck – was sitting in the passenger seat of her mother's battered Ford Fiesta, going on holiday for the first time in her life. Her parents hadn't been able to afford to go before, because her mum was too ill to work and her step-dad's job was rewarding but not very well paid. They hadn't driven very far down the motorway when the scrabbling noise began again – this time, on the roof of the car, and Sally heard it too. She suddenly sat upright in her seat and grabbed hold of the arm-rests.

"Mam! Did you hear that?"

The scrabbling noise continued, this time getting louder and louder until it was accompanied by something stranger.

Sally could have sworn she heard hooting.

"Mam! Stop the car, something's trying to get in!"

"Sally, I can't stop – we're on the _motorway!_"

"Pull over, the emergency lane or something!"

By now, the scrabbling and hooting had become such a distraction that Mrs Perks had no choice but to do so. Quickly flicking on the indicators and moving over to the hard shoulder, the little Fiesta came to a stop, its engine spluttering to a halt before finally giving in. Muttering under her breath, she got out of the car to see what was wrong, while Sally turned to look at the open window that was letting air flow onto the back seat. Her jaw dropped as she noticed the cause of the problem.

A tawny owl was attempting to perch on the lowered window. Not only that, it had a letter in its beak.

Without taking her eyes from it, Sally-Anne leaned out of the car and tugged on her mother's shirtsleeve. "Mam…" she whispered. "Look…"

The pair of them watched in awe as the owl gave up with trying to perch. Instead, she dropped the envelope through the gap in the window as if the car were a giant post-box – and before flying away, turned to look at Sally and Mrs Perks and hooted indignantly. As quickly as she'd been noticed, the owl flew away in a clatter of wings, scattering feathers over the surrounding area.

"What on earth was that about?" gasped Sally-Anne's mystified mother.

"I don't know" replied her daughter, "but this letter's on about some kind of magic school…."

As things tuned out, Sally-Anne wasn't the only one who'd had an unusual encounter with an owl that morning.

Nearly a full year had passed since the half-blood Antony Whitley had been told that his mother was a witch. It had been quite a shock. Antony could only remember looking into those crystal blue eyes of hers before passing out. Later, he'd asked – "surely witches and witches only happen in fairy tales?" and wondered if it was all some kind of joke. It wasn't.

His parents had decided that it was about time he knew about his heritage. "the longer we put off telling him", they said, "the more betrayed he'll feel when he does find out". And if he got into Hogwarts, well, they didn't want to scare him by telling him too late.

This was why he was lying in the back garden and cushioning himself in the soft grass. Just in case he DID get an owl from the school, his parents had decided to have breakfast out there, to be easy to find. The Whitleys, who lived in the Surrey Wizard village of Little Groaning, had just taken delivery of a new table. It was very long and made of solid oak – and while they waited for news, Lizzie and David Whitley were laying out the dining things. It was Antony's job to ensure that his seven-year-old brother Kevin didn't eat any of the food while their parents weren't looking. So much to his relief, Mrs Whitley was quick to call her sons over.

A few minutes later, Antony was in the middle of lifting a bacon sandwich to his mouth when his attention was caught by an un-impressed looking eagle owl gliding through the air, carrying what looked like a letter. Flapping its huge wings, the owl swooped down and dropped its load in the table's middle. It nearly knocked over a large jug of orange juice, which a surprised Antony had to catch quickly. On looking up again, he noticed that the owl had gone – leaving a strange looking envelope sitting in front of him.

Whilst Kevin gawked at him, Antony picked up the envelope and felt the rough parchment between his fingertips. "Is this it?" he asked hopefully, and looked at his witch mum for approval.

"Open it and see" she replied softly. Naturally, she knew exactly what words would be written in that emerald green handwriting, because she had experienced the same feeling of trepidation twenty two years earlier – she just didn't want to spoil her son's surprise.

Antony felt like he was living in a dream (albeit a very good one) as he pulled the envelope open and quickly unfolded the letter within. It began –

_Dear Mr Whitley,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry…_

"Well" he thought, folding the letter shut again, "that bit's good enough for me". Wearing an inane grin on his face, he looked up and said –

"I'm a Wizard!"

Rachel Bagshot and Ernie McMillan, both aged eleven, had lived next-door to each other ever since they had both started at the same primary school six years before. It was a Muggle primary school, of course, because this was somewhat a tradition where they grew up. Rachel was a pretty girl, with long dark hair that was the envy of her friends, and a small scattering of freckles on her cheeks. Ernie was already quite strongly-built for an eleven year old boy, and had tufty blond hair that made every passing woman tell his mother what a heartbreaker he'd grow up to be.

With their families, it was pretty much a certainty that they would both turn out to have magic in their blood. The Bagshots were known for their academic ability – several of the Hogwarts set texts had been written by Rachel's great-aunt Bathilda – and her mother had recently toured Wizard Schools in America to lecture on Magical History. As for the McMillans, Quidditch was their speciality. Ernie's grand-dad had played for England, and secretly Ernie hoped to follow in his footsteps. Another thing the families had in common was their upbringing – each and every family member in the past had attended Hogwarts, and each and everyone was a former Hufflepuff. Hardly surprisingly, the two families were great friends and had decided to await the Owl Post together that morning.

Unfortunately, this caused a small logistical problem. The Bagshot family consisted of two parents, an elderly grandparent, three grandchildren and a great aunt. The McMillan family had five children, two parents, an uncle, grandfather and a rottweiler called Boris. Without drawing attention to themselves by using magic, it was difficult to squeeze everyone into the McMillan living room – and matters weren't exactly made easier when Ernie's uncle Dan made a ten galleon bet with great-aunt Bathilda that Ernie's owl would get there first. A heated row was starting to erupt between the two, but luckily, Rachel spotted something that prevented hexes being exchanged.

"Look!" She cried. "Over there!"

Sixteen people (and a dog) ran over to the window and strained their eyes into the light where Rachel had been pointing – and they saw what she meant.

Gliding effortlessly over the horizon, with the sun casting long shadows on the pavement, two owls soared side by side into view. Each one was carrying a letter in its claws.

The cheers and celebrations that this prompted could have been heard all the way down the street, but were promptly stopped by Rachel and Ernie desperately clamouring for their families to keep quiet. "Sssh! You don't want to get the whole street looking up, do you?" Rachel hissed quietly, still keeping one eye on the approaching birds.

"She's right" muttered Ernie, "Besides, what if Hogwarts send out rejection letters as well as acceptance ones? Bet you hadn't thought of that, had you?"

This last remark was met with a stunned silence. "Well, we wouldn't know" said Uncle Dan thoughtfully. "No-one in either of these families has ever been rejected from Hogwarts."

Rachel rolled her eyes to the ceiling at the same time as Ernie groaned. "Thanks a LOT, Dan" he smiled. "Makes us feel a whole lot better, that does. Wait, get out of the way!" he yelled, "they're trying to fly in through the window!"

Everyone ducked just at the right moment, as a pale barn owl accompanied a huge snowy through the gap in the crowd. They were a mis-matched pair – a bit like the friends whose letters they were delivering. Having circled the room once, the snowy left a letter for Ernie, closely followed by the barn owl, who dropped an envelope right into Rachel's outstretched hands before following her companion back out into the street.

" That was weird" Ernie muttered, before having several family members pouncing on him. Rachel's own family were just as excited – her younger brother and sister started a "get – it – open" chant that was soon picked up by Uncle Dan. Doing their best to open the envelopes without ripping them, the two youngsters pulled out the letters and read them simultaneously – and had grins plastered over their faces within seconds. They had made it into Hogwarts.

"Thank Merlin!" Rachel said, as she slowly sank into Ernie's congratulatory hug to the sounds of laughter and applause from their exuberant families. With her head on his shoulder, she looked over at his back at the unbroken seal on the parchment. A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake, all surrounding a large letter 'H' and embedded into purple wax. It was an image that would be burned into her mind's eye forever.

She could have sworn the badger had winked.

_THE END _

**A/N:** PHEWWWW! Talk about exhausting! That chapter was really difficult to write but I did enjoy it so I hope you all did too. I'm going to try and write alternate chapters of this and "The Magic of the Night", so hopefully both should carry on nicely.

So who did you like best so far? I quite like David, and Ernie and Rachel too. But I would love a house like Rebecca's ;)

Seeing as I have a soft spot for the Hufflepuffs, I figured I'd try and write something that reflected that feeling. Hopefully it worked. Next chapter won't be anywhere near as long – this one was 5,004 words, people! – I just made this one nice and long, considering I wanted to introduce all my characters and this was essentially all about the same thing anyway.

Major props to JKR for creating my main characters, heh heh, and for inspiring me in the first place. Also thanks to KAT HALLOWELL, my new chum, for giving me a proverbial kick in the teeth to get me started on this. She doesn't know it but some of our mad conversations have given me plenty of ideas on where to go with this fic!

**Kisses, hugs, and tea in mugs (perhaps even a choice of fondant fancy for the first reviewer),**

**Hazel Whinlatter**

(PS- if you haven't, please give "The Magic of the Night" a glance through! It's mah baby!)


	2. Diagon Alley

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

_In the name of Helga_

**_Hazel Whinlatter_**

Diagon Alley

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn,_

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

Sally-Anne Perks read the inscription engraved on the silver doors with awe. She and her mother had been waiting in the outer foyer of Gringotts Wizard Bank for ten minutes, waiting for the guide they had been promised in a second Hogwarts letter. As a Muggle born who had never even been to London before, never mind a magical haven like Diagon Alley, she needed it.

They'd found their way to the Leaky Cauldron easily enough – as a witch, Sally had been able to read the hanging sign and lead her astounded mother through the strange crowd of people sitting inside. An old man was standing behind the bar who seemed to notice the trepidation that surrounded them like a cloud. "My name's Tom" he said, with a kindly grin that showed he didn't have many teeth. "Hogwarts, yes? Muggle born?" Sally nodded. "Well, follow me and I'll show you how to get into the Alley. After the first time you'll be able to do it yourself." Sally grabbed her mother's hand tightly and followed where Tom led – a difficult task, as Mrs Perks was unable to take her eyes from anything in the dark, dingy pub.

The three of them walked out into a tiny walled courtyard paved with concrete. The young witch watched carefully as Tom counted some bricks above a dustbin and tapped them with an over-long finger. Ever so slowly, the wall melted away to reveal a bustling little cobbled street, packed with people and surveyed by owls who glided over the rooftops. It was difficult to take everything in.

"Welcome" Tom said, "to Diagon Alley".

Doing his best to avoid a collision, particularly with the excited Wizard children who ran up and down the Alley, Julian Fortescue ran out of the Ice-cream Parlour's side door and headed for Gringotts. They day before, he'd received another owl from Hogwarts, requesting that he showed a Muggle born student around Diagon Alley to buy her school things. Still running, he looked down at his watch. The only hand on it pointed to "You're Late". With his breath getting short and burning in his chest from the effort, he rounded a tight corner and came to a halt in front of the bank. The building never failed to impress him – its tall, snowy white walls were smooth and majestic, and its heavy bronze doors were strong and intimidating. It helped that Gringotts was so tall that it towered above everything else in the Alley, although this was misleading; Julian knew that most of the upper floors housed offices and historical records, and that the main business of the goblins inside was conducted many miles below his feet. Jogging up the broad marble steps, he nodded politely to the red and gold clad goblin at the door and entered the foyer, where Sally-Anne and Mrs Perks stood in front of him.

"So sorry I'm late" he gasped as he tried to catch his breath. He extended his hand to Mrs Perks and Sally in turn, giving each a warm handshake. "I'm Julian – I live above the ice-cream parlour down the road. Dad asked me to help set up before I came, got held up."

"Quite alright" smiled Mrs Perks. "It's not as though we were going anywhere, right Sal?"

For the first time, Julian looked at his companion and appreciatively took in her sparkling green eyes, and the thick blonde hair that hung to her shoulders in waves. Seeing her nerves, he smiled. "Sally, is it?"

"Sally-Anne, actually. Most people call me Sally or Sal though, makes things easier", she mumbled, attempting to return Julian's cheerful smile. "Hadn't we better get going?" she enquired, looking at the solid silver doors standing in their way. "There's no spells on them, are there?"

He shook his head. "Don't need them, the goblins are enough security. I'll take you to the exchange goblin, shall I?"

Julian pushed open the huge doors that creaked and groaned as they turned on their ancient hinges. Walking behind him, Sally and Mrs Perks looked around with even more astonishment than they had done in the Leaky Cauldron. Gringotts interior was even more grand than its exterior – their feet paced over cool marble tiles that shone with flecks of jade green, and they were surrounded by tall gilded desks and booths (each one attended by a fierce looking goblin). Julian led them over to one that bore a sign saying "Muggle to Wizard Currency exchange".

Even the Magical vocabulary seemed alien to Sally. "How does Wizard money work, Julian?" she asked her new friend as they joined the queue behind a girl with bushy brown hair, who seemed to be trying to listen to his explanation. She must have been Muggle born too.

"Pretty much the same as Muggle money, except we don't use paper" he said, watching as Mrs Perks started taking coins and notes from her purse. "That'll be easily enough" he interrupted, "Wizard shops are quite cheap for clothes and stuff. Where was I?" he continued. "Oh yeah, the coins. There's three types – bronze Knuts, silver Sickles and gold Galleons. Twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle, and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. Easy enough to remember once you get used to it."

"How much is that in nor- er, I mean Muggle money?"

"I'd say a Sickle's about fifteen pence, so a galleon's about four pounds." was Julian's answer. He was quickly stopped, however, when the bushy-haired brunette had finished collecting her change, and the goblin at the desk started to count out more cash.

_"Uniform:_

_First year students will require:_

_1. __Three sets of plain work robes (black)_

_2. __One plain pointed hat (black for day wear)_

_3. __One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)_

_4. __One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)_

Oh, and I need name tags as well, dad."

"We can charm those on when we've bought the rest of your uniform, Hannah."

Hannah and Anton Abbott were standing outside a clothes shop called "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions', where there was a piece of parchment in the window saying "Hogwarts Uniforms: In stock now!" Hannah's mother, Sarah, had gone to buy things like her cauldron and books, leaving her husband and daughter to get her uniform and wand. Hannah was looking at some beautiful dress robes in the window – her particular favourite was sky blue, nipped in at the waist and had a full skirt whose hem was so long that its hem touched the floor. It even had twinkling gold stars on the wrists.

"Hannah, it doesn't say dress robes on your list" Anton said, smiling down at his daughter, who was looking longingly into the window of Madam Malkin's. "If they start having Yule Balls again, you can have one. But only then!"

His daughter's reaction only made him struggle to contain his laughter. "But _Dad_, you have to be in fourth year to go to a Yule Ball unless you get asked to go with someone older!"

"You'll appreciate it all the more then, won't you? Go on, in! I'll be out here when you're ready to pay."

Groaning reluctantly, Hannah tore her gaze away from the window and entered the shop. A little bell rang as she walked through the door, and as she looked up, Hannah noticed that it was suspended in mid-air. "Of course", she thought. "Madam Malkin's got to be a witch."

And a witch she was – a stout little witch, dressed in robes of shining mauve. Beaming across at Hannah, she nodded approvingly. "Hogwarts, dear?" When Hannah replied that that was indeed why she was there, Madam Malkin waved her wand in the air and conjured a package wrapped in brown paper and tied with string. "That's the part of your uniform we don't have to measure – your hat, gloves and the like" she explained, looking over to see that Hannah understood. Satisfied that she did, she gestured over to the back of the shop. "We've got another Hogwarts pupil being measured up now, as a matter of fact." Hannah glanced over and saw who she meant – a tanned, dark haired boy with long legs was standing on a stool while one of Madam Malkin's assistants took his measurements and conjured the pieces of cloth for his robes out of thin air, before passing them to another witch who used a stitching charm to sew them together. Madam Malkin patted a stool next to the boy, and Hannah jumped onto it as her own measurements were taken.

Hannah felt as though she was being watched, and as she looked to her right, noticed that the other boy was looking at her. Deciding that she ought to make friends as soon as possible, she spoke to him and tried to mask the nervousness in her voice.

"So you're going to Hogwarts? Are you a first year too?"

"Yeah" he replied. "I'm really nervous as well, first I was worried about not getting in and now I'm worried about going!"

Hannah already felt as though she could identify with him, and her own laughter joined his as they relaxed in each other's company. "Are your family magical?"

"Yes again" he told her, rolling his eyes towards the shop ceiling. "They're the reason I was worried about coming here in the first place! I thought I'd end up being a squib or something!" Hannah continued to laugh – she could tell they were going to get along OK. Once she'd stopped laughing, the boy said "My name's David. David Nott" and shook her hand. "I'm Hannah Abbott" she told him. Then something clicked inside her head – David's surname sounded awfully familiar. "Nott? Were your parents both in Ravenclaw or something?"

"Yeah, they were actually – why do you ask?"

"I think my dad might have been to school with them. That's him, out there" she pointed, waving and pulling faces at her father. "See?"

David craned his neck to look. "I see him. So he was at Hogwarts? What house?"

"Hufflepuff. Talk about mad, when he has reunions with his old housemates they talk about their old practical jokes as if they were still there! It's sooooo embarrassing!" she complained, which made it David's turn to suppress his amusement.

"My parents always got on with the Hufflepuffs. I wonder if they had lessons together" he mused. "Do you think you'll be in there too?"

Hannah shrugged. "I honestly haven't a clue. I'm quite like my dad, though, so if I do end up there it's not like I'll hate it or anything." Before she could confess that she actually knew very little about the Hogwarts Houses, Madam Malkin tapped David on the shoulder. "All done, dear."

David hopped down from the stool and gathered up the package that she handed him. "I guess I'll see you on September First then" he said. Walking over to the door, he turned and called to Hannah – "Are you going to Hogwarts on the train?"

"Yeah!" she called back. "I can't wait!"

"Me either!" David grinned. "I'll see you at King's Cross!"

Justin Finch-Fletchley looked around Flourish and Blotts Bookshop in fascination. He had been assigned a guide too – they had met earlier at the Leaky Cauldron – and now she was moving around the store as if she'd lived there all her life. If you made this assumption, you wouldn't be far wrong – for Justin's guide was none other than Rachel Bagshot, whose grandmother was a famous author. To get him accustomed to life as a Wizard, Rachel had enlisted Justin's help in looking for their books.

"Ok Justin, now we need 'Magical Theory'. It's by Adalbert Waffling.."

"Is this it?" Justin asked, manoeuvring around a pile of huge leather-bound tomes called 'Curses and Counter Curses' before picking up the book. "It looks a bit funny though". Justin suspiciously eyed the felt cover as it gently morphed from a pale, baby blue to a soft sea green under his nose.

"They're perfectly safe" Rachel responded. She was by now halfway up a huge ladder, scanning the shelves for 'A History of Magic'. "It's just the spells in them – eventually you learn to personalise the cover so people know it's yours. That's what Grandma told me, anyway. Ha!" She called in triumph, and pulled out two copies of a very thick textbook with a picture of a goblin on the front. Being a magical textbook, the picture was moving – Justin thought he was going mad when the tiny figure pulled a sword from its belt and began to duel with an imaginary enemy. Climbing back down the ladder as carefully as she could, Rachel saw his shock and cheerfully waved the image at him. "Speaking of Grandma", she said as she put the books on the counter with a clatter, "She wrote this one. Even taught Magic History in America for a few years."

Clearly impressed, Justin asked Rachel if she wanted to follow in Grandma Bagshot's footsteps and become an author herself. Rachel, who had been pulling some galleons out of her purse to pay for her share of the books, stopped and thought. "I don't know. I mean, it'd be a great job – Grandma's travelled loads – but I don't know what subject I'd want to write about really."

"Not History of Magic, then?" queried Justin.

His guide shuddered. "Merlin, no. You'll find out when we get to Hogwarts that Magic History's incredibly dull." She patted the volume in front of her and grinned fondly. "Besides, I think a single HOM author's enough for one family!"

"Students may also bring an owl _or_ a cat _or_ a toad" read Rebecca, who now stood outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. "I don't know about you", she said to the boy who was standing next to her, "but there is no way I'm getting a toad. We've already got three frogs and a newt at home, Mum wouldn't be too pleased if I brought another amphibian into the house."

Her companion, who she'd met earlier in the queue for the apothecary, chuckled and shook his head. "And I'm not getting a cat – my brother's allergic to them. He's snotty enough as it is."

Rebecca paused and surveyed the shop front before her. "Looks like owls for the both of us, then." With that, she led the way into the tiny little shop, Antony following behind her.

Once inside, it took a least a few minutes for their vision to adjust to the Emporium's darkness. Lit by a single oil lamp hanging from the ceiling, row upon row of wrought-metal cages lined the walls. From inside them came the sound of hooting and rustling feathers, and the youngsters could see masses of jewel-coloured eyes that observed them with interest.

While they gaped at the beautiful creatures around them, they were approached by a shop assistant who didn't look much older than twenty one. The midnight blue orbs of his eyes bored into Antony and Rebecca's mystified faces, and he smiled. "Buying an owl for school?" he said. They both nodded.

"I don't suppose you know about the procedure we use for the selection of owls? No, you wouldn't, it's much too difficult" he muttered before giving them a chance to answer. "Basically, one of you steps forward into the middle of the room. We unlock each of the cages, say an incantation, and the owl that suits you best will fly out and land on your shoulder. Of course, it is possible to buy an owl for someone else, and for them to not be present during the process, but we find that this method works very well indeed."

His two young customers exchanged a glance, and with a nervous squeak Rebecca's voice piped up – "I'll go first!" Treading the floorboards carefully so not to frighten the owls, she stood in the middle of the shop and looked expectantly at the assistant. "What do I do now?"

"Wait - " he said. Going round and carefully opening each cage, and finally standing back, he took out his wand and waved it. There was a sudden rush of air flowing around Rebecca's body, and before she had time to react to it, a tawny owl with obsidian eyes was circling around her. It landed on her shoulder and gave her earlobe an affectionate nip. The mystery man seemed to approve of the choice. "That one's Cleopatra" he said. "Sweet little thing, very good natured. You might want to give her bits of toast as a reward when she delivers things at breakfast, though. Alright lad, you next" he indicated to Antony, who walked eagerly to the spot where Rebecca had been seconds earlier and waited patiently. This time, the rush of air whistled loudly and almost lifted him off his feet. The owl who came to him was much bigger than Cleopatra, and just to be awkward, landed on the shop floor and skidded the last couple of metres before coming to a halt at his new owner's feet. The assistant chuckled, and leaned behind the counter – behind which, it seemed, he kept a very tough looking pair of leather gloves. "You might be needing these. Augustus here isn't exactly gentle, and from what I know of him he's a cheeky little beggar too."

Antony's jaw dropped as he examined his new pet. "He's brilliant! What type of owl is he?"

"Screech. One advantage, though – they may be a bit feisty but once you know how to handle them, they're fine birds for setting on your enemies. Joke!" he corrected himself on seeing their startled faces. "They're much more useful for carrying stink bombs hidden in letters. Now, I think you'd better be going with those two" he said once he'd taken their payment and coaxed Augustus back into his cage. "They look like the need some quiet."

Just as his two newest customers headed out of the door, owl cages under their arms, the assistant called after them. "Enjoy yourselves – you'll love Hogwarts! And if you ever take Divination, give that dozy bat Trelawney a message from me. Tell her Bob Shunpike survived graduation, will you?"

"Other Equipment: One Wand" Susan announced, as she read from the sheet of paper that was still attached to her Hogwarts acceptance letter. "Where on earth are we going to find a wand shop amongst all of these other places?"

"Ollivanders. No place else if you want a decent wand." That was from Susan's Aunt Beth, who had taken a break from "Magical Mastery", where she worked, to help Susan buy her school things.

Ollivanders, as it turned out, was a narrow and dingy looking shop that was almost at the very end of the Alley. The first thing that surprised Susan was the sparseness of its appearance – unlike the other shops, whose windows were crammed full of everything from books to broomsticks, Ollivanders' display contained a single wand, that lay on a purple cushion faded by sunlight.

As the Bones' stepped inside, they could hear the tinny sound of a bell ringing towards the back of the shop. Whoever the bell was meant to signal, they were obviously engaged in something else, as another family was already waiting. Sitting on a high, spindly-legged chair was a boy of about Susan's age, who appeared to be alone. He glanced over at them and grinned weakly – it was clear that he felt as nervous as she did – and as they continued to wait, both youngsters looked at the thousands of thin boxes piled right up to the ceiling. For some reason, none of the boxes had labels.

"Good afternoon", said a gentle voice that made everyone jump with surprise. Aunt Beth, Susan and the boy in the chair turned around to face the speaker – an old man whose eyes fixed upon each of them in turn. "Of course, Beth Bones – I wondered if I'd be seeing you again. Ash, 13 inches wasn't it? And this must be your niece! Susan, I believe?" (The grin that Mr Ollivander gave Susan seemed to be more sinister than friendly). "With a family of your stature, Miss Bones, I wouldn't be too surprised if I'm hearing of your great deeds in the future!"

Susan subtly tried to edge away from him.

"And a McMillan!" Ollivander said, whirling around in astonishment to face the boy. "Goodness me, this is an honour. What's your name, young man?

"Ernie" he gulped.

"Well, Ernie and Susan, we'd better get you measured up. Both of you hold up your wand arms, please."

Susan raised her right arm, Ernie his left. Mr Ollivander carefully began to measure their arms, wrists and hands, and explained what he was doing in between writing results down on a small note-pad. "Is that how you remember everyone's wand?" Ernie joked, trying to lighten the mood. He regretted it when he felt the burning sensation of the shopkeeper's moon-like eyes on his skin.

"No, Mr McMillan", was Ollivander's reply. "Each Ollivander wand is unique, and that is why I find it so easy to remember them all. Naturally" he mused, "a good memory does help, but there you go." The old man suddenly dropped his tape measure with a clatter. "And I have just the wand for you. One moment, please."

He moved so fast that the three other people in the shop only saw the fading retreat of his back as he entered the back of the shop, almost hopping from one leg to the other with excitement. His return was even quicker, and his customers had to stifle a giggle when he nearly tripped over the unravelling carpet.

"Just finished it yesterday," he said in a thrilled voice. "Very similar to the wands favoured by other McMillans, actually. Beech, 13 ½ inches, Dragon heartstring. Give it a wave. Go on!" he encouraged, waving his long hands in Ernie's face.

Unsure of what he was supposed to look for, Ernie raised the wand and moved it around above his head. Truth be told, he felt rather silly. It was only when he felt a strange, tingly feeling run from his shoulder through to his fingertips that he looked up – and saw the most amazing display of yellow sparks that were just like miniature pieces of glitter, flowing out of the end of the wand and casting speckles of light on the wall, which caused the Bones' and the wand maker to burst into applause.

"Excellent! Well done!" exclaimed Ollivander. "We've found your wand on the very first try, that's very rare indeed! Oh, absolutely marvellous!"

When the cheering had subsided, Mr Ollivander picked up his note-pad from the counter and studied it carefully. "Hmm. I think I may just have the perfect wand for you as well, Miss Bones." He glanced around the high walls until he saw what he was looking for – a navy blue box with a fat red triangle on it – and pointed his own wand in its direction. "Accio!" he muttered; and the box shot out of its spot on the pile with a bang, only just missing Aunt Beth's nose. "Now my dear, try this one". He looked very hopeful indeed.

Taking a deep breath, Susan copied what she'd seen Ernie do before. Only this time, she brought the wand down in a sweeping motion, which resulted in a single beam of yellow light that shone so bright it led everyone to gasp in amazement. For once, it seemed, Mr Ollivander was genuinely surprised. "Well, well, that is a shock" he gasped. "Just like a stronger version of the Lumos spell – but it's only the most powerful of wizards who can perform it. Truly amazing! And it was pure yellow, Exactly like his sparks – " his voice trailed off quietly, till he began to whisper.

"Never in my long career have I seen cases like this! Such a fast result, and such clear yellow! You do know what this means, don't you?"

Neither student said anything.

"I shall be owling Hogwarts ready for the start of term. This is something I'm sure they'd like to know about – one Professor in particular, I expect."

By now, Susan and Ernie were even more confused.

"Let's simply say this – when you're sorted, don't be too surprised if the Hat doesn't take very long in its decision – "

_THE END _

**A/N:** Oooh, I wonder what Mr Ollivander meant? Wait, hang on, I'm the author, I know! Muhahahaha. OK, here's an idea for a little contest I had! Anyone who figures out the significance between the names of Antony and his and Rebecca's owls, e-mail me your answer at . The winner (ie the first correct answer) gets to be featured in a chapter. You know, I might do more of these contests in the future ;)

Thanks a bunch to my first reviewer drum roll - KAT HALLOWELL! Thankyou for your comments, sweetie, you're way too nice and such an encouraging person! I'm always glad of your reviews!

**Kisses, hugs, and glasses of water because I'm trying to cut down on caffeine – **

**shewhodares **


	3. Hogwarts Express

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_Hazel Whinlatter_**

Journey to Hogwarts

Hannah Abbott started at the brick wall and felt her heart throb in panic. All the other passengers at King's Cross seemed to know exactly where they were going, and stared at the young girl as she stood still in their path.

"Dad" she gasped, "are you sure this is it?"

"Ssh, Hannah, keep your voice down". The older wizard at her side looked to his left and right, and saw Platforms Nine and Ten clear of people as trains departed from them. Next to where the Abbotts were standing was a guard cabin, where a uniformed woman sat looking bored. "The brickwork's enchanted so that Muggles can't get through, but witches and wizards can. Just walk straight at it and you'll appear on the other side." He paused again. "Right, the guard's not looking, better do it now!"

Hannah hugged her father tightly before facing her mother and blinking away tears. "Bye mum", she whispered. "I'm going to miss you, you know that?"

"Oh, baby." Mrs Abbott took her turn to hug her daughter goodbye. "I know you will. But you'll love Hogwarts. You'll settle in before you know it" she said as she released Hannah from the embrace. "Good luck! Send us an owl when you get there!"

With that, Hannah took hold of her trolley and walked towards the wall.

When she reappeared on the other side, the sights and sounds of Platform 9 ¾ made her jaw hang open in wonder.

The train was no ordinary train. Looking at it waiting in the darkness of the platform, Hannah saw that its scarlet red compartments disappeared back for a great distance, and the smoke pumping out of the engine billowed in thick clouds above the heads of the students who were yet to clamber aboard. Some of them still had their families there – quite reasonably, Hannah thought, as some were clearly struggling with their luggage. In front of her was a stout young boy who appeared to be a first year himself. In his arms was a wrought metal cage that contained a massive owl – whose screeching and wing beating can't have helped its owner. Standing backwards in the train steps and dragging the cage up each step wasn't doing much for the owl's behaviour.

Hannah looked down at the owl sitting on her own trolley – a snowy that she'd named Mim. "If you behave like that, I'm leaving you at home next term" she told her firmly, and was answered by a disgruntled hoot. "Now, where do I put all my things?"

Hannah pushed her belongings nearer to the train and quickly winced as she realised that she'd knocked into the trunk into a much older girl. This stranger was loading her friend's things into an empty compartment at the front of the train, and nearly dropped what looked like a broomstick as she felt the impact.

"Oh no", Hannah worried, "I'm in trouble already!" Her fears were eased, however, when the tall girl turned round. She didn't look annoyed at all.

"First year?"

Hannah nodded, took in the girl's appearance. She had a small round badge pinned to her robes. It said "Head Girl", and its gilded letters twinkled in the sunlight that filtered through the roof. Her long hair was raven black and secured into a bun with chopsticks – although a few strands had worked themselves loose and hung in front of her ears. They were now being tucked back by the long fingers of one hand, while the other was being extended to meet Hannah's.

"Nice to meet you" she said, shaking the first year's hand and smiling. "I'm Kat. Kat Kiely." Gesturing behind her, she indicated her friend – who was by now testing the comfort of the seats by bouncing up and down in them. "And that –" she paused, "Is Verity Vector. Sixth year Hufflepuff, and my friend from back home. Always a bit daft, that one" she laughed, as Verity shot a mock glare at the seventh year and strolled over to the train door.

"Did Kat tell you she's Head Girl yet?" Verity asked, a seemingly innocent look on her face. "Because so far she's been boring me stiff by telling me how she has to set an example to the rest of the school. You're no fun anymore, Ka", the petite brunette moaned, turning back to her friend.

"I wouldn't complain if I were you, Vee. Look at the rest of the girls in your year – it'll be you next!"

"Ugh, don't remind me" Verity complained, before asking – "so who bumped into our Ka this time? Happens every year, without fail!"

"I was just about to ask!"

Hannah plucked up the courage to speak. "No need to. I'm Hannah."

Verity cast her eyes over the load that sat on Hannah's trolley. "Looks like you might need some help there, Hannah. Give me that trunk, I'll stick it in here with ours."

Grabbing the corner of it, she dragged it up the steps and helped Kat to carry Hannah's things into their carriage. These girls were stronger than they looked. "Share with us, if you like," Verity offered. "We've already adopted one first year, you can get to know each other."

Suddenly, a goblin sounded a whistle. The train was about to leave, and Hannah and Verity sat in seats next to the window. The last one to clamber aboard, Kat pulled the door shut with a bang as the Hogwarts Express shuddered into motion.

Kat settled herself in a seat next to another young girl who Hannah hadn't noticed before. This, she presumed, was the other first year Verity had mentioned. Her hands were folded gently in her lap, and as she gazed at the city speeding by the window, her forest-green eyes occasionally flicked over to Hannah's side of the compartment.

"Oh, Merlin!" Kat cried, slapping her forehead. "I didn't introduce you two! Completely callous of me – why didn't you remind me, Verity?"

Verity feigned shock, widening her pale blue eyes and gawking at her friend. "But Kat, you're Head Girl! It's your responsibility to remember such things by yourself!"

No-one could help but laugh, even the Head Girl herself. "Shut up, Vezza" she said, picking up the cushion she'd brought with her and flinging it across the cabin., causing the two younger girls to burst into a further fit of giggles.

"You know Kat, this would be the perfect opportunity for a pillow fight" Verity said calmly as she tossed the cushion back. "But I think you still have some introductions to do."

Rolling her eyes to the roof, Kat said – "Hannah? This is Rebecca. Rebecca, Hannah. That better?" She addressed that last remark to Verity.

"Perfect. But I think we have a visitor."

The compartment door slid open and a young boy poked his head round it. He was the same boy that Hannah had seen struggling with the owl cage on the platform – and his pet was still making a fuss.

"Sorry" he said, "but I can't find any spaces, do you mind if I sit in here?"

The others in the cabin exchanged a glance. With that monster of a bird, they weren't surprised that the other cabins were all 'full'.

"Sure" nodded Kat. "Come on in! These two" – she indicated Hannah and Rachel – "are new, I'm guessing you are?"

"Yeah" he replied, taking a seat next to Hannah. "I'm Antony, by the way". He shook the hand of the four girls, and looked at Rebecca curiously. "Rebecca, isn't it?"

"It is" she said, not recognising him at first. Then she looked properly at his face, and broke into a broad grin of her own. "Antony! It is you – fantastic! We met in Diagon Alley buying our owls" she told her companions, who had seemed a bit bemused.

Hannah looked at the two of them, smiling and talking together, and felt a small stab of envy – was she being left alone already? Her feelings, however, must have been obvious as Rebecca turned and asked if she'd met any of their classmates while shopping. Hannah replied that she'd met a boy in Madam Malkin's, but she hadn't seen him on the platform.

"He said his parents had both been in Ravenclaw though – and my dad was a Hufflepuff. We'll be separate houses anyway" she added, rather gloomily.

"I wouldn't bet on it" smirked Verity. "Loads of people don't end up in the same house as their relatives – just ask this one here! Tell 'em, Ka" – emphasising her wish by nudging her friend's elbow.

"Behave, you!" Kat shot back, rolling her eyes at Verity for what the first years felt would be the second of many times that day. "But yeah, she's right. I'm a Hufflepuff, my sister was in Ravenclaw and my dad was a Slytherin. Mum went to Beauxbatons – that's a French school of magic – but if our Jenny isn't in Gryffindor I'll eat a vomit flavoured Bertie Botts!"

Hannah, Antony and Rebecca chuckled appreciatively. Each of them had at least one Wizard parent, so they knew what Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans were even if they didn't know about the Hogwarts houses.

"Speaking of which, I'm starving! Wonder when the food woman's coming?" Kat continued, craning her neck to look past Rebecca into the corridor. They didn't have to wait long – a woman in a red and white uniform soon came clattering up to their door; followed, it seemed, by another young looking boy who had already changed into his school robes. He looked at them all as Kat bought a pumpkin pasty, Hannah and Rebecca some Cauldron Cakes, Antony a couple of Chocolate Frogs and Verity eight boxes of Bertie Bott's, earning her weird glances from the six others.

"What? I'm only stocking up!"

"That's your excuse, is it?" chortled the Trolley Lady as she collected their money. It seemed as though she had known Kat and Verity for a long while. As she moved off, she nodded her head towards the newcomer. "Any room for one more? This one's been getting ready early and hasn't found a space yet". She paused. "And the tyke's being pestering me about how long till Hogsmeade!"

"Ah, you love me really" he grinned, entering the cabin with a wink. The Trolley Lady moved off trying to keep a straight face, and he ran a hand through his already tufty dark hair as he took a seat next to Antony. "I'm David, by the way. And I know you're Hannah" he said, turning to face her. "Do you really think I'd have said 'see you' and not mean it? I've looked for you everywhere on this blimming train!" He leaned across Antony (bumping into Augustus' cage in the process) and hugged Hannah so tightly that the breath was knocked straight out of her. Letting her go again, he leaned back into the soft cushion of his chair. Verity was about to ask him if he was the boy Hannah had met in Madam Malkin's; but before she had the chance a set of small speakers crackled into life in the corner of the compartment, and a thin, reedy voice squeaked –

_"The Hogwarts Express is now ten minutes away from its destination. If you have not done so already, could you all please change into your school robes. Years two through seven are reminded that House jumpers, robes and ties are compulsory –"_

"Damn!" cursed Verity. "Black and yellow makes me look like a wasp!"

_" –__ and all first years must wear their standard Hogwarts uniform."_

"Try wearing this badge" Kat replied, flicking the pin on her lapel. "I look like a wasp with a pimple".

_"That will be all. We all wish you a happy Halloween term at __Hogwarts__School__ of Witchcraft and Wizardry."_

The voice disappeared as suddenly as it had came, and the sound of happy chatter filled the corridors again as students made for bathrooms and other empty corners to change. Hannah, Antony and Rebecca bid a temporary farewell to the two older girls as they joined the throng, and David was soon added to their number when he saw the Trolley Lady reappear with excess food – amazingly, there were still some Bertie Bott's left.

Left alone once more, the sixth and seventh years sighed and began to gather up their own belongings. "You know" mused the elder, "I don't think we'll have to worry about that lot. They look like they're going to cope just fine."

"Yeah" agreed her friend. "But they're not our responsibility yet. Wait until the Sorting at least before you get too worried about them."

"I don't think we'll need to." Kat stopped what she was doing and looked at Verity, a familiar twinkle in her eye. "It seems pretty obvious to me. Didn't you get a feeling about it?"

A minute or so of silence passed before they felt the train shudder to a halt at Hogsmeade Station. The tiny platform could be seen in the dark, lit by magical lamps whose light reflected on the faces of those inside the compartment. Her face illuminated, Verity Vector smiled at the memories brought back to her by the familiar little village, and smiled still further when she thought of the memories still to be made for the new students whose lives at Hogwarts hadn't yet begun. The sound of footsteps could be heard making for the main doors of the steam engine, and as she descended onto the concrete, the sixth year prefect turned and looked back at the younger Kiely sister.

"You know what, Ka? I hope the Sett's got enough room for them all."

_THE END _

**A/N:** Phew! Another long chapter, heh heh. This was originally going to be half of a chapter, but I think it's just about the right length. Next chapter, we see Justin, Julian and Ernie meet up with Rachel, Sally-Anne and Susan as they get their first up-close glimpse of the school.

By the way, a Sett is the home of a certain animal, and the nickname of a certain house's common room. Think about it.

Right, now the mentions!

**Wannabe Hobbit –** love the name : ). Thanks for the review, it was really sweet and I'm glad you're enjoying it. Motivates me for the rest of the fic!

**Rachel Perez –** hopefully character identity will become a little clearer once they're all introduced properly! Thanks for your cntinued reviewing, you know I really appreciate it!

**Kat Hallowell –** aaaw, what would I do without you? Hope you like the portrayal of a certain Head Girl nudge nudge, wink wink .

**GWS –** a "must read"? Must be one of the nicest things anyone's ever said to me! sniffs Good to see you like what I'm doing.

That's all for now folks! I have a plan for the next one, so hopefully you won't have to wait too long!

**Kisses, hugs, and where's the tea? Mu-uuuuuum!!**

**shewhodares **


	4. Crossing the Lake

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

Crossing the Lake

~*~

The small waiting area of Hogsmeade Station was crammed with students – some returning for another year, who separated from the crowd and were led en masse in another direction to some awaiting carriages. The excited chatter that had defined the train journey slowly disappeared, until on the platform remained around forty young people who lingered in the still night air. The darkness wrapped around them like a blanket, and the dim glow of the Station's lights did nothing to help them see – until a lamp that rose a few feet above their heads added to their number. 

Holding it was the strangest man Sally-Anne Perks had ever seen. He was at least seven or eight feet tall, with shoulders as broad as she was tall. His massive frame was covered in a ratty brown overcoat, and only his thick bushy beard matched the caterpillar-like eyebrows that lined the top of his face. He spoke to them with a voice that could have been heard right in the centre of the village. 

"Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Follo' me!"

Struggling to keep up with the man's massive strides, Sally whispered to the boy who she'd been sitting with on the train. It was Julian Fortescue, who had shown Sally where to buy her school things. 

"Who on earth's that? He's enormous!"

Julian found it a great effort to run with the group and talk to her at the same time. "My brother told me about him. His name's Hagrid, I think" he panted. "Gamekeeper or something." It seemed as though Hagrid was leading them all down a steep hill, and every so often Sally and Julian had to pause as they felt their way down in the gloom. "I could have found out about him myself, pity he didn't tell me about this stupid hill instead".

Sally-Anne agreed with him and carried on sliding down the hill on the soles of her feet.

It wasn't long before the new first-years all bunched up together again, as Hagrid suddenly stopped and called to them. "Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec, jus' round this bend here" he said as the followed him round a huge tree.

It could easily have felt clichéd, but Sally-Anne and Julian hardly noticed as they and their classmates let out a collective gasp of 'ooh's' and 'aah's'. 

They had reached the bottom of the hill and found themselves standing on the pebbly shore of a wide lake, so still that it looked like a sheet of black glass in the moonlight. A line of little wooden boats was moored to a pier, and the eye followed it through to the middle of water, further onward to the huge, craggy rockface that was home to the castle. Majestic in appearance, it ascended up into the sky in a series of towers and brightly-lit windows. Hogwarts – their home for the next seven years.

Hagrid's voice boomed through the clearing again –  "No more'n four to a boat!" His fingers, which Sally-Anne thought were decidedly short and stubby for such a large person, gestured excitedly towards the fleet, indicating that they were to get in. She and Julian were accompanied in their boat by two other people who seemed to know each other – a boy with tussled blond hair, and a girl whose red hair was pulled back in a ponytail. Hagrid, of course, had a boat to himself, yet even so its timbers creaked and groaned beneath him as he sat down. "Everyone in?" he yelled to them all, and once satisfied that the students were safely inside, he looked down and appeared to address his boat directly. "Right then – _forward!_"

The craft carrying the gamekeeper must have been enchanted to lead the way for the others, because as soon as it glided smoothly away from the pier, the others followed it. The groups of four travelled side by side in pairs as they journeyed towards the school. There was a smattering of conversation – a mixture of "I can't wait's" and "What's your name's" – with the blonde and the redhead sharing Sally-Anne and Julian's boat introducing themselves as Ernie and Susan. Surprisingly quickly the boats approached the cliff face, and the foursomes ducked automatically as they were carried through the ivy that curtained off an underground harbour – they didn't need to be told twice by Hagrid, but they were anyway. Once they had clambered out of the little boats (that sailed away again after being vacated), the gigantic man led them up a rocky passageway. 

It led to the front door of the castle – a huge oak structure that took three knocks from Hagrid's strong fist to call someone to open it. Most whispering coming from the first-years stopped immediately as they saw the witch who obliged – with her black hair pulled so tightly from her face, she looked even more strict than she actually was. But what really made them take notice was her richly decorated robes of emerald green. Clothes of that colour could mean only one thing – this was Professor McGonagall, the teacher who had written their acceptance letters. Her aura radiated intelligence and seemed to demand respect – so with suitable reverence, the final talkers quietened and waited for her to speak.

_~~ * THE END * ~~_

**A/N:** Finally, I manage to write a short chapter! I figured that this part of the book was over quite quickly, so I elaborated a little. Forgive me :) . Next chapter, in case you hadn't guessed, is the sorting and start of term feast – with extra newbies not seen in canon thrown in to boot! (A-hem). There'll also be a contest if I can think of a decent enough challenge.

Seeing as I got this chapter up a day after the last one (a personal record, go me! Mind you the shortness helps ;) ), there's just the one reviewer to thank – 

**Rachel Perez!** I'm so glad you like it. It honestly does motivate me a helluva lot when good fic writers compliment my work. And of course you're right – Kat the Head Girl is of course, none other than Kat Hallowell, who won my first contest. Can you guess who Verity is? ;)

Hey, you never know I might have some more ITNOH written over the weekend if I get the necessary studying done!

**Kisses, hugs, and no food or drink 'cos I can't be bothered going to the kitchen – **

***~ shewhodares ~***


	5. The Sorting Ceremony

**Disclaimer –** This story is based on "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" by J.K.Rowling. Anything you recognise is hers. Anything you don't is mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

The Sorting Ceremony

~*~

"Now, form a line, and follow me".

These past five minutes were unlike anything Ernie McMillan or Susan Bones had ever experienced. Professor McGonagall, who had earlier explained to them how the school houses worked, had left and returned to them again to escort the new first years into the Great Hall. During her absence, however, there had been the unexpected arrival of a gang of ghosts – which naturally had unnerved them a little, as is was a new experience for even those with several generations of Hogwarts alumni in their families. 

What didn't help, it occurred to Ernie as he slotted into the line behind Susan and in front of his old friend Rachel (they had found each other again in the antechamber), was that one of the most important events of his life was to take place in front of at least two hundred other people. 

 Susan herself couldn't even think about her own nerves. Her legs were shaking so hard that she struggled to keep walking straight – and, finding herself at the front of the queue, she had to force herself to hold her head up as she walked through the solid double doors and into the Hall. 

The sight that awaited them was one of the most magnificent that they'd ever seen.

They were led down the middle of four long tables, which were all full of people bar a small section at the end. The uniforms differed slightly from bench to bench, which made it evident that each house sat together for meals. As she paced towards the front, Susan glanced over at each. The table on the far left wore red and gold ties under their robes, at centre left they wore blue and bronze, centre right wore green and silver and at the far right they wore yellow and black. Sitting at that table was one of the ghosts they had met earlier – he regarded Susan with a wry smile and gave her a wink. 

The Professor came up to another table on a raised platform where the teachers were sitting. Once the stragglers at the back of the line came to a stop, she silently exited through a side door and left the students to wait again. Susan took a better look at the rest of the vast room. Each place setting consisted of a shining plate and matching goblet, which shone in the light of candles that bobbed like corks in mid air. Nevertheless, there was no food or drink yet. She guessed that it would be served after the Sorting.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside, I read about it in 'Hogwarts: A History'". 

The speaker, in a low, whispering voice, made Susan wonder what she was referring to, until Ernie jabbed her in the back sharply. "Look" he hissed from the side of his mouth. "Up there".

Where in most rooms like this there would have been a high, vaulted ceiling with detailed carvings, there was simply a black sky – glittering periodically with diamond-like stars. She was not the only one to gaze up at it in wonder, until Professor McGonagall's return was signalled by a heavy thump on the wooden floor at the front of the room. On looking down again, a four-legged stool sat there, upon it a frayed Wizard's hat that in Ernie's opinion was in dire need of repair and a good wash. The strangest thing was, the older students all stared at it with what can only be described as anticipation. He understood why when it began to sing!

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty" _

("Damn right", Ernie muttered. Susan had to stifle a giggle.)

_"But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me"_

("That's actually quite witty if you think about it" she shot back, biting down on her bottom lip.)

_"You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all."_

("But that pun was bloody awful!")

_"There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see"_

("That could be a bit dodgy")

_"So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be.___

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart"_

("Who said nerve was always a good thing?")

_"You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil"_

("That doesn't sound so bad" whispered Susan. "Safer, too!" snickered Ernie in reply.)

_"Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind"_

("Er, no!" "Sssh!")

_"Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends"_

("Who wants friends like that lot?" "For once, I agree with you!" "What do you mean, for once?")

_"So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"___

Despite their own doubts about the hat's lyrical ability, Ernie and Susan joined in the loud applause that acknowledged its performance. All of a sudden, its 'mouth' closed and became quite still – and Professor McGonagall was prompted to pick up the lengthy roll of parchment that had been sitting next to the hat.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted."

A murmur of excitement rippled through the first years.

_"Abbott, Hannah!"_

The tiny blonde, who had spent most of the song re-arranging her pigtails, squeezed out of her place in the line and walked up the steps to the platform. She sat for only a few seconds, before the hat shouted – 

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

"So * that's * Hufflepuff" Susan thought, as the yellow and black trimmed students on the far right began to applaud loudly. Out of politeness, she joined in too.

_"Ackerley, Brian!"_

_"RAVENCLAW!"___

"So they're the blue and bronze" Susan said to herself, attempting to put to memory names, faces and house colours as Brian ran to join the table left of centre. The Ravenclaws showed their approval by shaking Brian's hand enthusiastically as soon as he reached them.

_"Bagshot, Rachel!"_

Ernie clapped her on the back as she went past him, held his breath, and waited. The hat was even quicker to decide this time.

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

The roar from the hat was so loud, Ernie could have sworn it was congratulating itself on its choice. He cheered boisterously as his friend went to join the same table as Hannah.

_"Bones, Susan!"_

The redhead breathed in sharply and left the front of the line, and caught a last glimpse of the starry ceiling as the hat covered her eyes. As the last of the light was blocked out, Susan heard a quiet voice speaking to her. Perhaps 'voice' was a little inappropriate, however, as it seemed to coming from inside her own head – 

_"Ah, a Bones, eh?__ Welcome to Hogwarts, my dear – I'm sure you'll do very well. I sorted both your parents, and most of your family. You've got an awful lot to live up to, you know."_

Susan gulped.

_"But in you I see the same things I saw in them. You have bravery and sagacity to rival a Gryffindor and Ravenclaw – but what I sense most in you is something both of those houses lack. I sense a vast belief in loyalty and fairness, and I get the feeling that you're quite prepared to wait for your moment of recognition to come. Not that it'll be too long before you get it, Miss Bones. Ah yes, I know exactly where to put you."_

For a third time, the hat appeared to be particularly pleased with its choice. It bellowed – 

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

With relief, and to the sound of cheering from her new housemates (who after all, knew the Bones family name well), Susan practically skipped with delight and joined the others over on the right. Once she had taken her seat, she gave Ernie an excited wave and accepted a huge hug from Hannah and Rachel.

"Great. Knowing my luck I'll get separated from the lot of them" he groaned.

The hat was now on another boy's head, and _"Boot, Terry!" became the second student that evening to join the Eagles. The girl who followed him, __"Brocklehurst, Mandy!" was also sorted into Ravenclaw, but following them was the first new Gryffindor._

_"Brown, Lavender!",_ a brunette with a sharp-cut bob and bags of attitude, jumped up from the stool and practically skipped over to her new house's table, where she was greeted loudly by a pair of redheaded twins. The Gryffindors in general seemed to be very enthusiastic about their new members – they drowned out Hufflepuff AND Ravenclaw with the extra-hard stamping of their collective feet.

_"Bulstrode, Millicent"_ was the next to be sorted. She became the first Slytherin, and once Ernie had taken a good look at her and the green and silver clad students sitting centre right, he wasn't surprised. The bulldogged-faced girl seemed to be right at home with the Serpents, who had been rather rude and hardly clapped any of the preceding first years.

After Millicent came another Slytherin _– "Crabbe, Vincent!", a rather large boy with a threatening expression on his face, and __"Creevey, Caroline!" who was the complete opposite – another tiny blonde who took her place with Lavender at the Gryffindor table. _

There were no students whose surnames began with D or E, so Professor McGonagall followed Caroline by calling out for _"Fawcett, Rebecca!"_

Rebecca barely had time to pull her pointed hat from her bronze curls and sit down before the hat decided to place her in Hufflepuff. From behind him, Ernie heard an Irish accent ask – "Isn't it being really quick with those Hufflepuffs tonight?" Silently, Ernie agreed. 

The next person to be sorted – another person with curly hair, but this time a rather tall blonde boy – _"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!" strode over to the stool and looked prepared for a long wait, yet it was only about five seconds before the hat declared that he too was a – _

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

"Bloody hell!" exclaimed the Irish boy, "there's thousands of 'em!" even an especially tense Ernie McMillan had to laugh at that one.

_"Finnigan, Seamus!"_

"Oh right, my turn." It turned out that the boy making the observations on the Hufflepuffs was to be sorted next. His sandy hair bounced up and down at the back of his head, before that hat covered his eyes. Once ten seconds had passed, Ernie remarked – "Obviously not a Hufflepuff then!" and received an appreciative laugh from the students around him – with the exception of a girl with brown, bushy hair who had earlier mentioned 'Hogwarts: A History.' Finally, after a whole minute, Seamus was put into Gryffindor and received cheers and applause of his own.

Seamus was followed by another Hufflepuff – _"Fortescue, Julian!"_ ("I dread to think what Seamus would make of that" shuddered Ernie), and next came a Slytherin bearing more than a passing resemblance to the last one – _"Goyle, Gregory!". Then there were two more Gryffindors – _"Granger, Hermione!"_ turned out to be the one who knew about the ceiling, and __"Longbottom, Neville!" was recognisable as the boy who'd lost his toad on the train. Ernie felt rather sorry for him as he seemed really nice, but was already showing himself to be a little clumsy. Matters weren't exactly made easy when he ran off still wearing the hat._

One more Ravenclaw _"MacDougal, Morag!" followed Neville, and then there came a sudden quieting from many of the students – Muggle born or not. The next to be sorted was _"Malfoy, Draco!",_ and being a pure blooded wizard himself, Ernie knew all about Draco Malfoy and his father's alleged activities (most of them highly illegal, but unproven). For Draco, the hat shrieked _

_"SLYTHERIN!"___

A surprise to no one, Malfoy swaggered over to join Crabbe and Goyle and looked like the cat who'd got the cream. He smirked at the remaining students in a very smug way, ensuring that Ernie took a dislike to him from that moment on. Ernie was still glaring in the direction of the Slytherin table when the Professor called out – 

_"McMillan, Ernie!"_

"Oh no" Ernie thought to himself, swallowing quickly. He hadn't though his Sorting would arrive so soon, but considering the speed with which the hat had gone through the six Hufflepuffs, it should actually have been expected.

_"Ah, Mr McMillan, another famous name I see. I truly am honoured."_ Ernie jumped with surprise, he hadn't expected a talking accessory! _"I've seen the like of you before – many McMillans have been to Hogwarts, I do hope you intend to honour your family name, boy. You are not the only one of your classmates with a reputation to keep up."_

Ernie presumed it was referring to other Wizarding families like the Bones' and the Malfoys. 

_"But where to put you?__ Hmm, let me see. You're not quite bright enough for Ravenclaw, I'm afraid, although you do have the potential to do well if you try – and cunning isn't your style either, so Slytherin isn't for you."_

He was glad at this. He didn't feel like hanging around with the likes of Malfoy and his brutish cronies, Crabbe and Goyle.

_"As for Gryffindor?__ Well, you certainly have courage, but I think it's more out of a desire to protect the ones you care for than for anything else. Yes, you're another easy decision. I like those. It has to be –"_

Ernie held his breath.

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

Rachel and Susan led the roar of applause at the table on the far right, and the three new Hufflepuffs he didn't know also clapped happily. He was extremely glad to finally get to sit down and rest, and upon reaching the expanse of solid oak he was greeted with warm hugs from his housemates. No wonder that Hufflepuff was known as the friendly house.

He chose a seat facing away from the wall, so he could get a good look at those still to be sorted. Hannah and Susan sat on either side of him, Rachel and Rebecca opposite, and Justin and Julian flanking them. Ernie had to look between the two girls' heads to see _"Moon, Alec" be sorted into Slytherin, the table that was the next one along from their own. _

"They don't look a welcoming bunch, do they?" Hannah whispered in his left ear, and Ernie replied in the affirmative.

_"Nott, David!"_ was the next name to be called, causing Hannah to look sideways at Rebecca with a raised eyebrow. David, the boy who had shared their compartment on the train, had told them how he'd hate to be in Ravenclaw like his parents ("I don't want to be labelled clever, I want to have a laugh!"), and was extremely worried about ending up in Slytherin, for reasons he hadn't mentioned. They'd simply assumed because he didn't want to be labelled evil, either.

The hat this time took a much longer time to decide, taking more seconds than even Seamus and Neville put together. From their restricted view at the side of the hall, the new Hufflepuffs could see what looked like David whispering something to the hat.

"Do you think he's trying to influence it?" pondered Susan. The others shook their heads – they had no idea, as the hat had immediately suggested Hufflepuff for each of them. Ernie, however, noticed something rather strange.

"Psst! Take a look at the middle tables!"

Eager to see what he was referring to, they followed his instruction. Centre-left, Ravenclaw looked mildly interested at the announcement of David's last name ("His parents were Ravenclaws, you'd think they'd show a bit more respect!" Rebecca whispered indignantly, to a chorus of nodding heads from the rest of the group), but were mostly slumped at the table, looking a bit bored. 

At centre-right, however, the Slytherins were very alert. Draco Malfoy, and his friends Crabbe and Goyle, were staring at David intently, keeping one eye on him as they embroiled themselves in a deep conversation with the other Slytherin male, Alec Moon. 

"Now that's funny" said Julian, speaking for the first time. "Why would they be interested in someone from a Ravenclaw family?"

"Merlin knows" Rachel tutted in reply – clearly unimpressed at the way they were behaving. 

After a second minute of deliberation, the hat's 'mouth' opened widely – and formed what looked to many like a grimace. The hat was nowhere near as happy this time.

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

The new friends applauded wildly at the hat's decision – which was just as well, as the Ravenclaw and Slytherin students sat open-mouthed with shock. Could it be they knew something the Badgers didn't?

David skulked over to the table looking slightly sheepish. "Took a bit too long, didn't it?" he said, his trademark grin much more weak and feeble than usual. "Must have been balancing out the time it took for you lot."

They tried to respond with a smile, but somehow it was very difficult. It took until Professor McGonagall called the next name for the growing tension to be dispersed.

_"Parkinson, Pansy!"_

The pug-faced girl was sorted into Slytherin, where she introduced herself by way of a simpering grin at Malfoy.

"Ugh" Justin shuddered. "Is it me, or do those Slytherin girls all look like types of nasty dog?"

The other seven turned in unison – and saw what he meant. It took a lot for them to avoid bursting into laughter in the middle of the Ceremony.

A pair of twin Indian girls followed Pansy. _"Patil, Padma!"_ was sorted into Ravenclaw, followed by her twin, _"Patil, Parvati!"_ who was for some reason placed in Gryffindor.

A voice coming from past Hannah's left said – "What did we tell you?" Hannah turned to see who it was, finding none other than Verity Vector and Kat Kiely, the sixth and seventh years who'd befriended them at King's Cross. Verity winked. "You'll see stranger sortings than that in the next few years, you can bet on it!"

Hannah smiled broadly in recognition, before turning back to the others and mouthing – "I'll tell you later!" to the Hufflepuffs who hadn't shared their compartment on the train.

If they'd thought that their group was complete by now, they were very wrong. _"Perks, Sally-Anne!"_ was next to be called to the stool, and before they knew it, was also proclaimed a Hufflepuff.

The eight-strong group began to stamp their feet and whistle, the celebrations becoming earsplittingly loud as Sally-Anne joined the table to make them nine.

"Nine, eh?" Kat smiled. "I feel like a proud mum!" Verity just snorted.

_"Potter, Harry!"_

Verity knocked over her goblet. "What?"

The Hufflepuff Nine were equally bemused, and shared a look between them as whispers from the other Houses increased.

"Potter, did she say?"

"The Harry Potter?"

Sally-Anne, who was sitting next to David, turned round and had a good look at Harry, who was by now approaching the hat. "Who?" 

None of them laughed – even the Muggle borns were too intrigued in his sorting, which like David's was taking an awfully long time. .

"Five sickles says it's Gryffindor." Julian said quietly. "Typical hero-stuff, beating He-who-must-not-be-named, just the type of thing Gryffindors do."

"Ten says it's Slytherin." Ernie added. "You'd have to have some pretty powerful stuff behind you to get rid of him."

"What ARE they talking about?" Sally-Anne whispered across to Justin, who was just as confused as she was. 

"Haven't the foggiest" was his reply.

Julian and Ernie settled their bet.

"Done."

"You have been!"

The hat, which had been in earnest conversation with Harry, suddenly raised itself high upon his head, and bellowed – 

_"GRYFFINDOR!"___

"Told you!"

"Damn!"

The cheers from the Gryffindor table were so overwhelming that the Professor had to wait a minute or so for the tumult to die down before she could continue.

_"Quirke, Sarah!"_ joined Ravenclaw, sandwiched by two more Slytherins – _"Pritchard, Michael!"_ and _"Skeeter, Poppy!"_

"God, not another Skeeter in the world! That's all we need!" sighed Kat.  

"Is she Rita's daughter, then?" said Julian, plucking up the courage to speak to the elder girl.

Kat nodded, the pieces of hair she'd tucked behind her ears slipping out of place. "At least, I think so. If she is, the Slytherins had better watch their backs!"

Surprised that anyone could show concern for a Slytherin, attention turned back to the Sorting Hat, who after sorting _"Stebbins, Craig!" into Ravenclaw, put __"Thomas, Dean!" into Gryffindor. A smattering of polite applause followed from the others._

"Poor lad" sympathised Rebecca. "Imagine having to come after Harry Potter."

This, in the minds of her companions, summed up everything. 

Following _"Turpin, Lisa" joining the Ravenclaw table, the redheaded boys who had applauded Lavender Brown on her place at Gryffindor suddenly perked up again. It was the turn of _"Weasley, Ron!"_ to take his seat. Looking at the tousled thatch of hair he had, they must have been his brothers. _

_"GRYFFINDOR!"___

Seeing them cheer, it was pretty obvious. 

"There's still a place left" announced Rachel in shock. "Do you think they're expecting another Hufflepuff?"

Ernie stood up a little from the bench, and counted the students still to be sorted. "Four more to go" he said. "Gryffindor's pretty full now, so at least one's going to be ours."

_"Whitley, __Antony__!"_

Rebecca recognised the boy she'd met in Eeylops', and as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head she gave him a last cheery wave, encouraging Hannah and David – with whom they'd shared a train compartment – to do the same. Considering how placid and laid-back he'd been, it was no surprise when the hat, after a short paused, yelled – 

_"HUFFLEPUFF!"___

Their table erupted with approving cheers as Antony, sporting a grin almost as wide as his head, sauntered over to their table and took the remaining place next to Sally-Anne. "The Hufflepuff Ten" he joked. "I like it!"

Their excited chatter went on for so long that they missed the sorting of "_Wimple, Holly!"_ into Slytherin and _"Woodroffe, Murray!"_ into Ravenclaw, but when it was the turn of _"Zabini, Blaise!" (She filled the last spot at the table next to them), the confirmed Hufflepuff first years, as befitted their 'just' label, made the effort to watch. As Antony said – "I was getting bored waiting that long, so imagine what she was feeling!"_

Job done, the Sorting Hat fell silent again, and Professor McGonagall picked it up and carried it from whence it came. The Headmaster, a bearded man sporting bright, multicoloured robes, waited for her to retake her seat and then stood before them all.

He had the most genuine looking smile that any of the students had ever seen on someone so important, and addressed them with more delight and respect than several of them probably deserved. He looked slowly and carefully at each of the Houses, favouring none with an extra glance – yet he still made every person there feel like he was acknowledging them and them alone. Albus Dumbledore began to speak.

"Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thankyou!

Over on the Hufflepuff table, The Ten exchanged another bemused glance. It was David who spoke.

"What a nutter!"

_~~ * THE END * ~~_

**A/N:** Yay, another chappy done! Just as long as the first one – never thought I'd see that happen! But still, I enjoyed this one because it gave me the chance to put it into my own perspective – for instance, did anyone else reading the UK versions notice that Crabbe, Goyle and Dean Thomas were never mentioned during the Sorting? It also meant I could sneak in my OC's, heh heh. 

Anyway, I had an idea for a contest! The prize: You get to decide which class the 'Puffs attend first (tho it won't happen for another chap or so). You choose between Potions, Transfiguration, Charms (all with the Ravenclaws),Herbology with Gryffindor, Astronomy and DADA. Throughout the story they will attend three of those classes in detail. If you have any ideas for the class, you also get to put those forward. 

The challenge: read the chapter again – and if you spot the significance of David's Sorting (ie why the Slytherins were so interested in him), e-mail me at heather_stanton@hotmail.com . I'll give you one clue and one clue only – it's mentioned very briefly in a certain part of Goblet of Fire. Anyone who guesses the plot line involved with this (which in fact won't happen until I get to the G.o.F section of the fic, but hey you never know - it's not amazingly difficult if you've paid attention so far) gets extra credit and gets to help me on the chapter where I would next put a contest – might be the next lesson, may be something else entirely which is a secret!

Before I go, a quick mention to the two reviewers I've had since "Crossing the Lake" – 

**Wannabe Hobbit** – glad you came back to read this : ). I was halfway through this chapter when I read your review and it gave me an idea not only for this, but what might happen in the next chapter, so go you!!

**Kat Hallowell** – aaaw, you're the best ego-boost in the entire world! I liked Verity, too – but you know who she's based on! Lol. Thanks for saying what parts of my writing you liked – now I know what I've gotta live up to  - - 

**Kisses, hugs, and * blanks * - what was the next bit?**

***~ shewhodares ~***


	6. The Feast

**Disclaimer –** This story is based on "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" by J.K.Rowling. Anything you recognise is hers. Anything you don't is mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

The Feast

~*~

As Dumbledore sat down, cheers arose from all corners of the Hall. Even the Slytherins clapped – although this may have been for the arrival for the food than for their Headmaster. 

The food itself appeared magically on platters every foot or so along the table – huge, steaming tureens full of vegetables were accompanied by massive joints of succulent roast pork, tender roast beef that glistened in its juice and lamb smothered with tangy mint sauce. There were potatoes cooked in every way possible, but mostly rich, full to the brim gravy boats in the shape of swans, trays piled high with chicken legs and for reasons known only to the kitchen staff – humbugs. Mint ones. What on earth they were for was anyone's guess.

For a minute or so, it all went quiet as the astonished new students buried their plates with the main course and began to tuck in. If this was what all the food was like at Hogwarts, they'd be needing plenty of exercise to keep fit. The excited chatter soon resumed, however, when Sally-Anne decided to try an experiment. 

"I'm dying to know why they put humbugs in with all of this savoury stuff. Seems a bit weird to me."

"Does anything about this place _not seem weird?" Ernie reasoned._

"Good point."

"Hey, they might be magic. Dare you to try one!" said David, a glint in his eye. 

"I know that look – do you know what they are?"

"Might do!"

Sally-Anne sighed with an air of mock resignation. "Alright then, seeing as you're too much of a wuss to try it yourself – "

"Am not!"

"Try one then! Same time as me!"

They each picked a humbug from the pyramid in the centre of the table and eyed it suspiciously.

"One, two, three!"

The sweets were quickly thrown into their mouths, causing them to gasp as the sharp flavour of the mint spread over their tongues. 

"It's, it's, it's cold!" Sally spluttered. "It's, ooh! Look!"

Appearing on the table in front of them were more platters – this time of quiches, savoury tartlets and funny looking pastries in the shape of cauldrons. The new Hufflepuffs were baffled – and remained so when their Head Girl exclaimed in surprise.

"So that's the trigger!"

For a few seconds, there was silence.

"What are you on about?" said Verity, her eyes narrowing. "The trigger for what?"

"For the vegetarian meals!" Kat cried, her bright eyes shining as she smiled. "They only started making them when I was a first-year, but they never told us how to get them!"

"So what have you been eating for the past six years?"

"What everyone else has, silly!"

Verity slowly shuffled along the bench away from her friend. "You're really starting to scare me, you know that?" she said, before whispering to the group in a voice just loud enough for Kat to hear – "You might have to keep an eye on her. She might be Head Girl, but she's not entirely sane." Her words were received with a smattering of giggles from the Hufflepuff Ten, and a friendly cuff round the ear from Kat. 

"Oi! That was uncalled for!"

"No it wasn't." Kat finished her main course with a swallow and gestured with her fork to the roof above them, where the Fat Friar was happily floating about with the Grey Lady – the ghost of Ravenclaw House. "Do you think we should ask the Friar to come down and sit with us? He could have a chat with this lot!"

From the far end of the table, Rebecca's tiny voice piped up. "Who's the Friar?"

"The Fat Friar - our house ghost. You'll see him about the castle for the next seven years, so you'd better start getting to know him now." Kat replied with a sigh. "He's a right softy when it comes to this House. I'm going to miss that, actually." 

Rather conveniently, the Friar had chosen this point to break off his conversation and focus his attention on the students below. Hearing his name, he waved his arms with excitement and glided downwards, coming to a stop a foot above their heads. He crossed his legs as if sitting down, and beamed at the dazzled youngsters. "So, these are our new students, Miss Kiely?" The Fat Friar was always polite.

"Yes, Friar. Shall I introduce them?"

"Ooh, please!" he said, as if nothing would delight him more. "Please do!"

"Right" Kat paused, deciding where to begin. "We've got Hannah, Rachel, Susan, Rebecca and Justin on this side, and over there" – she gestured again with her fork – "we've got Julian, Ernie, David, Sally-Anne and Antony. I think they'll do Hufflepuff proud, Friar."

"I'm sure they will!" he grinned cheerfully. "Do you all know each other yet?"

Ten people shook their heads.

"Come, come, we can't have that! Why don't you all introduce yourselves properly? That'll be nice!"

Ernie and Rachel exchanged a look across the table.  "Well" Ernie said, "me and Rachel live next door to each other back home, don't we? Um, all our families were Hufflepuffs, I don't think we've had any relatives in another house."

"Speak for yourself" Rachel retorted. "Great-Aunt Bathilda was in Ravenclaw!"

"Ah yes, Bathilda Bagshot! I remember her – wanted to write books for a living, I believe!" the Friar recalled.

"She wrote our History of Magic textbook" said Rachel. "Can't say I've read it yet, though."

"Oh, I'd be careful not to say that to Professor Binns then, if I were you" chortled the elderly monk. "Once he sees your surname on the register, he'll assume you're an expert on the subject! Pity it had to be History your great-aunt was interested in, it's a frightful bore!"

"Not unlike Binns himself" murmured Verity, giving Rachel a sly wink. 

"So, is your aunt really famous then?" inquired Sally-Anne, who was particularly awe-struck at the notion of having powerful magicians in the family. 

"I'd say she's more well-respected than famous" was Rachel's answer. "She's like most witches, really – not the type to look down on someone just because they're from a non-magic background. So how did you find out you're a witch?"

Sally-Anne shrugged her shoulders. "You tell me. I was in the car going to see my step-dad –"

"You've got a car?" Ernie cried. "Wow!"

"Ssh!" Rachel said, kicking him in the shin. "What happened?"

"An owl followed us for a few miles before we knew it was there. It gave me my Hogwarts letter and flew off again. First thing I'd ever heard about it, really."

"That's kind of like what happened to me" Justin declared. "Except for the bit about the car."

"So your parents aren't magical either?" Sally-Anne asked.

"No" he replied firmly, shaking his head and his loose brown curls with it. "Mum and Dad wanted me to go to Eton – that's a private school in London" he added, seeing the blank looks on the faces of Ernie, Rachel, Susan and Julian, "but instead of getting a letter from them, I got one from Hogwarts. Simple as that."

Susan Bones shook her head in amazement. "That must have been so weird for you!" she said. "I don't know how I would have felt."

"Ah, of course – a Bones!" cheered the Fat Friar, clapping his pudgy hands together. "I suppose you've always known about our world, have you?"

Susan responded that she had. "Thing was, I was terrified that I'd still get rejected and let all my family down – every one of them came to Hogwarts!"

"I totally know how you feel" said Julian sympathetically, as students across the Great Hall began to get up and move between tables, visiting friends and relatives in other houses. "All my family's magical, and I honestly thought I was a Squib for a minute, the owl took so flipping long to come!"

Susan took a sip from her goblet of pumpkin juice and contemplated what Julian had just told her. "Do you have any brothers or sisters here? I only had a cousin, but she graduated last year. I'm on my own."

Julian grimaced. "A brother. Alan. He's alright, but he teased me all summer about ending up in Slytherin and the whole family hating me, or something like that."

"I knew my ears were burning!"

A tall, thin boy of about fourteen approached the Hufflepuff table, wearing robes trimmed with Gryffindor red and gold. He smirked at Julian and stood behind him, ruffling his hair. "I do wish you'd give me warning when you're going to talk about me, brother. It's only fair I can defend myself, after all."

"Should have thought of that – you Gryffindors are into defence and all that stuff, aren't you?" Julian shot back, sticking his tongue out at the visitor. "Everyone, this is my pain-in-the-backside of a brother, Alan."

"Nice to meet you all" he said, acknowledging his brother's housemates. "Seriously though, don't give me stick for being in Gryffindor!"

"Mum and dad did."

"Ooh, touché! The hat just decided it was about time someone bucked the family trend, is all."

"Says the one! You told it not to put you in Hufflepuff!"

"Damn, how did you figure that one out?" Alan replied cheekily, patting his brother on the shoulder before turning to look at the Head Table. "I'd better be getting back, looks like they're about to make the last announcements. Good luck anyway, I'm glad you got in here. You and the Gryffindors have loads in common – but I'll let you find out what for yourself."

Those were the last words he said before heading over to rejoin Gryffindor at the table on the far left. He hadn't been in his seat for more than a few seconds before Dumbledore himself rose, causing the whole school to calm down in silent awe. 

"Just a few more words now we are all fed and watered. I have a few start of term notices to give you. First of all, I would like to announce the names of our esteemed Head Boy and Girl. If they would like to stand up when I have called their name - your Head Boy, from Ravenclaw House, is Mr Ryan Malloy!"

Two tables over, the students burst into a roar of approval, something the Hufflepuffs thought was the closest the dignified Ravenclaws would ever come to going really wild. At the top of the table amongst their new first years, a very good looking boy stood up, struggling to contain the huge grin that was threatening to expand across his face. His hair, appropriately, was as black as a raven's wing, and short – as could be seen when he tried to sneak a look at the Hufflepuff table without being noticed. 

Dumbledore spoke again.

"And your Head Girl, from Hufflepuff House, is Miss Kat Kiely!"

Kat, it seemed, was as desperate to contain her pride as Ryan had been. Pandemonium broke loose on the announcement – with the eruption of applause so loud it nearly lifted the enchanted ceiling – but concerned with fixing her now truly collapsed bun, she barely noticed the pleased grin on her fellow Head Student's face. 

"Yes, thank you everyone" Dumbledore said, smiling kindly. "The rest of the staff and I are certain that Mr Malloy and Miss Kiely will do an excellent job. You may sit down, now."

They obliged, with Kat seemingly glad to be out of the spotlight for a while.

"Also, first years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

"I wonder who he could be talking about" said Kat dryly, as Dumbledore glanced at the Gryffindor twins who had been catcalling Lavender Brown.

"I have also been asked by Mr Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between the classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch."

"Pity first-years can't have brooms" grumbled Ernie. "I would have tried out otherwise."

"Finally, I must tell you that this year, the third floor corridor on the right hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

"That's a new one" said Kat, clearly puzzled. "Wonder what that's all about."

"I'm not bothered about that" replied Verity. "I'm just gonna remember it for when I try and murder Professor Snape."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore bellowed. Picking up his wand, he deftly conjured a lengthy golden strip that formed itself into some rather bizarre lyrics. "Everyone pick their favourite tune, and away we go!"

At different paces and volumes, the school burst into song.

_"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts"_

The three girls sitting in the middle of the group, Rachel, Rebecca and Susan, sang like an old Muggle blues group – finger clicks and all. 

_"Teach us something please!"_

Julian picked up their tune, and deliberately sang in a low, gravelly voice, which made them all laugh. 

_"Whether we be old and bald, or young with scabby knees"_

Ernie, Antony and David shouted the words at the top of their voices, aiming to cause as much noise as humanly possible.

_"Our heads could do with filling with some interesting stuff, for now they're bare and full of air, dead flies and bits of fluff!"_

The remaining three – Justin, Hannah and Sally-Anne – could only sing faintly has they attempted to restrain impending giggles.

_"So teach us things worth knowing, bring back what we've forgot, just do your best, we'll do the rest, and learn until our brains all rot!"_

On the last line of the song, the Hufflepuff singers finished with a flourish, and breathed in sharp, shallow bursts as they waited for the rest of the school to catch up. Over at Gryffindor, some students took almost a minute to complete their song, but it was such a success that Dumbledore himself appeared to be their biggest fan. 

"Music!" he cried, looking as though he'd enjoyed himself more than anybody. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

There was a sudden rush as the older students left their seats and exited the Great Hall. When the crowd had diminished, leaving only some Prefects and a few stragglers, the new Hufflepuffs rose from their places and followed Kat through the heavy double doors. 

The Seventh Year turned left upon reaching the Entrance Hall, where they had left the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws behind. The stone-floored corridor was lined with oaken panelling, which looked dark and gloomy in the night-time candlelight. 

"Hang on a sec" Kat said, gesturing for them to move to the side of the hallway as the Slytherin first years passed, accompanied by their prefect. "Let this lot through. Evening, Dippet" she quipped, addressing the menacing looking Slytherin boy with a nod of her head.

"Kiely" Dippet replied, leading his charges past with only a thin-lipped smirk by way of acknowledgement.

"That was rude!" Justin said angrily, his instilled sense of etiquette kicking in. "What was that all about, anyway?"

"Probably doesn't want us to see where they're going. Each House's living quarters are in a different part of the castle, you see – well, they might be. They could all be next to each other for all we know. The important thing is that the entrances are hidden."

"Really? By magic?" Hannah's eyes flew open in surprise. It seemed that this castle had more hidden secrets than she'd first thought.

"Sort of. There's a password, anyway." Kat paused. "Ernie – have they all gone?"

Ernie checked. "They've just turned right and gone down some sort of sloping corridor."

"The dungeons! I knew it!" Kat laughed, clenching her fist in triumph. Seeing the blank looks on their faces, she explained. "Professor Snape is the Head of Slytherin, and his classroom is down in the dungeons. Makes sense that their common room's going to be down there." She sighed. "Still took me seven years to figure it out, though".

Satisfied that the Slytherins were well out of sight, Kat turned and faced one of the wall panels. "See this panel here? Remember it." She felt the smooth wood beneath her long fingers, as if hunting for something. "Got it." Pressing down on a slight indentation, she stood back again as the panel slid away – just like the compartment doors had done on the train. The First Years were quickly ushered through the gap that appeared, and the panel shut behind them with a soft thud. 

They were in some kind of ante-chamber, which clearly wasn't used to holding so many people, as the group had to huddle together to avoid being squashed against the wall. Ahead of them was another doorway – but Kat didn't lead them through it. Instead, she led them towards and down a steep spiral staircase that was tucked away in the corner. The patter of many leather shod feet echoed in the confined space of the granite stairwell, which itself appeared to go down at least fifty feet. Upon reaching the bottom – where there was another darkened corridor - the Head Girl stopped to allow the remainder of the tired youngsters to catch up, and drew her wand from underneath her robes. 

"Lumos".

Suddenly bathed in warm, yellow light, the students could see two more entranceways – separated from each other by fifteen feet of blank stone. One was covered in a giant painting of a bowl of fruit (which they were later informed was the entrance to the kitchens – information they were told to keep to themselves), the other, not unlike the cliff-face through which they had entered Hogwarts, was a thick curtain of ivy. Strangely, it could sense the presence of people, and the middle strands formed themselves into a twisted, gnarled mouth. 

"Password?"

Muggle born Justin and Sally-Anne would have fainted in shock, had they not seen the antics of the Sorting Hat earlier that evening.

"Brassica oleracea". 

With that, the ivy gathered itself up and drew away sideways, like a thick curtain, and having nervously edged past it, the new Hufflepuffs got their first glimpse of what would be their common room for the next seven years.

The Sett, as it was known, began with a fat rectangular shaped chamber, complete with a domed ceiling. Being underground, it was surrounded completely by earth – although you wouldn't know it, as the floor and ceiling were lined with wooden paving, and the walls with the same solid granite that made up the staircase. Dotted about the place were groups of armchairs and tables, vases of flowers and greenery on each one.

In the centre of the room stood a little marble-topped coffee table, surrounded on three sides by comfy looking brown leather sofas. On its other side was the fireplace, where a ball of flames burned in the grate. Though what they were feeding from, and where the smoke was going, was a completely mystery. Their light bounced off the walls, sending speckles of colour across the bright yellow tapestries that hung there. 

Spanning the entire length of the room, one of them depicted a pretty woman with hair that fell in red waves across her shoulders, smiling as she reclined on a sofa. Curled up at her feet was a badger that looked out them all with eyes almost human like in expression. The others showed the Hufflepuff crest – the very one that they would soon sport on their robes – and a writing desk, no-one sitting there, yet with a quill inked and poised.

At the Head Girl's request, the older students had left for bed early, so the first-years could become accustomed to their new surroundings, and the silence, marred only by the crackling of the fire, was overwhelming.  Falling out of their single file, they followed her to a door that was cut into the granite next to the fireplace.

The dormitories.

"Welcome", Kat began in a light and airy voice, "to the Sett. Your home for the next seven years, so hopefully you'll like it. This is the room where we're all supposed to do our homework when not in the library, but normally ends up being used for parties instead."

David snickered in appreciation.

"The plants are symbolic. Our Head of House is Professor Sprout, who teaches Herbology. She's brilliant at what she does, and encourages everyone to do try and be the same. It's hardly surprising that plenty of Hufflepuff graduates leave with honours in her subject – despite what certain people say about us."

If she didn't have their attention before, she did now.

"Yeah – the Hufflepuff reputation. Most of you have either come from Muggle families or families where the majority of people were in Hufflepuff, which is great because you were more open minded to what being one of us meant. You actually listened to the Sorting Hat. Thing is, from certain quarters there's a lot of prejudice. I implore you – don't listen to it."

Kat breathed in deeply before continuing.

"People accuse us of being boring or useless. Why? Being in Hufflepuff is great. You heard what the Hat said. We're just. If justice and fairness didn't exist, there wouldn't be a shred of happiness anywhere in the world. We'd live in a pretty miserable place."

"We're loyal. True, some people claim to be loyal when they're just sheep. But true loyalty – what we all have – is hard to find. It means you value your friendships and relationships enough to do what's right by others. Do you realise how difficult that is? It's just as brave and noble to be loyal as it is to go off and save the world. Respect Gryffindors for what they do. But remember that loyalty is the glue that holds our lives together."

"Then there's people who claim that we're just duffers. That we're not very bright. That's another idea you can throw out the window. If you work hard enough, you get what you fully deserve. Whether that's full marks or half marks or whatever, being the best you can be is what counts. So don't begrudge the Ravenclaws their ability – but remember that you can be as good as them at something, if only you try."

"I suppose you've heard that all Slytherins are evil, too?"

The eleven year olds in front of her nodded. 

"Forget it. Slytherin House might have produced some awful Dark Witches and Wizards, but if you tar them with the same brush, you're just as bad as we're told they are. We're Hufflepuffs, remember, that kind of behaviour is not what we're about. There's nothing wrong with ambition and cunning – as long as it's held in balance, and as long as it's used for good."

"Last term, we had a massive party down here. Thing was, we were a bit too loud and Filch reported us. Professor Snape taunted us for weeks in Potions – saying we'd got detentions for nothing, why bother celebrating when we'd done nothing special? After all, we haven't won the Quidditch Cup for ten years, and the House Cup for fifteen. But you know what? In Hufflepuff, we don't need any of that. It's nice, but it's not everything. We love our history, we love our friends, and most of all – we love life. That's the best thing of all to celebrate."

Leaving them to think about what she had said, Kat gripped the doorknob and pulled it tightly. The corridor behind it appeared to be a tunnel bored deeply into the earth – completely round, with circular wooden doors every ten feet. 

"Follow me." 

Doing as they were told, the five boys and five girls walked behind her for about thirty feet. Passing the seventh, fourth and third years' dorms, they eventually reached their own – the boys' front door painted in black and yellow stripes, the girls' with polka dots – and it was then that they actually realised how tired they were. The long journey from London, the nervousness of the Sorting and the copious amounts of food devoured at the feast had exhausted each and every one of them. In fact, Antony was already pushing the door open to inspect his new room before the Head Girl placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. 

"Can I rely on you?" she said. "Can I rely on you to believe in yourselves and your housemates?"

The look in her pale eyes was one more serious than she had ever had before, and the urgency in her voice was also something new. The first-years' reactions, however, were more positive.

"Course you can!" quipped Antony, removing her hand from his shoulder and shaking it warmly. 

Ernie returned an open-mouthed smile. "Just you try and stop us!"

"We're with you" Justin said, Julian and David agreeing with him.

"And don't you dare forget us!" cried Rebecca. "No way are we letting the side down!" The other girls nodded firmly in support.

Beaming with pride, Kat looked at each youngster that stood around her.  The future of Hufflepuff.

"I'd better leave you now, then. I think you'll be needing your sleep!"

With that, she left them to return to her own dormitory – pointed hat sitting proudly on her head, and robes swishing gently about her ankles. As she walked, she acknowledged the message her heart gave – that the new intake would grow to be very special men and women indeed.

_* ~~ THE END ~~ *_

**A/N:** Hmm, a weaker ending than normal I think, but it'll suffice. If I went on any longer, those poor kids would be falling asleep on their feet : ) Anyway – next chapter, the gang start lessons. There were two winners to my last contest – Wannabe Hobbit correctly identified the identity of part of the Nott family, and Kat Hallowell spotted why it was significant in relation to the last chapter. So, Wannabe Hobbit's idea for a lesson will be the next chapter, and, when I come to it, Kat gets to pick a scenario for another chapter I'm planning. So thanks a lot to those two, and Rachel, your idea was noted and approved of, so it'll happen when I have time to write some more!

Because, you see, for the next week I'm on a trip to Canada, so I won't be able to take my fanfic writing materials with me : (. Hopefully, if ff.net is willing to let me upload tonight (as it hasn't for the past week or so), this and my tenth chapter of TMOTN will keep you going!

**Kisses, hugs, and –what's that line again?**

***~ shewhodares ~***


	7. Badgers and Lions

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

Badgers and Lions.

~*~

Rachel Bagshot was the first to awake the next morning; the excitement of the previous night mixing with first day nerves in her tummy, preventing her from sleeping. Lying on her back, she looked upwards and was initially confused by the canopy of black velvet above her – so different to her room at home – but then started grinning as she recognised her new four poster bed. The heavy brocaded curtains were still drawn, and Rachel tentatively peeled them back as she glanced around the dormitory. 

To her left, Susan Bones dozed peacefully.  The night before, the redhead had barely changed into her nightclothes and climbed into bed before sleep claimed her, neglecting to shut the fourth curtain that separated her from Rachel. Her face swathed in flame coloured hair, Susan looked the most relaxed of all. 

Opposite Rachel, although shielded from view, Hannah Abbott could be heard tossing and turning in a fitful slumber. Murmuring softly, it sounded as though the pigtailed blonde was still dreaming.

To the right of Rachel's bed was that of Rebecca Fawcett. The last of them to rest after the feast, Rebecca had left her front and side drapes opened wide to the room, and now her bronze curls spread over the vast pillows, surrounding her head like the rays of the sun as it begins to set. Rebecca was also snoring, and it occurred to her dorm-mate that this was probably the reason she'd awoken in the first place. She had a feeling that it would be something of a recurring theme of their years at Hogwarts.  

The final inhabitant of the first year girls' dorm was Sally Anne Perks, who occupied the bed opposite Rebecca and next to Hannah. Cradled in the yellow duvet, Sally was just about visible in her little corner – more settled now, and not as baffled by the mystical presence of the school. 

It was then that Rachel noticed something different. Beside each bed was a small chest of drawers for their belongings, accompanied by a small, leather backed chair. Whereas last night her chair had been empty, it was now holding up her House uniform; a grey jumper (where the v-neck was edged with a stripe of canary yellow, one of coal black and another of yellow, accompanied by the House crest), a tie (of diagonal stripes in the same colours), a pair of yellow gloves, and over the back, black robes – same as those the rest of the school wore, except for obligatory crest on the left hand side. It was the same for the other four girls. 

Rachel was picking up the jumper and running her fingers over the embroidery when, at her side, Susan began to stir. The bed creaking gently as she sat up, she yawned and casually turned towards her fellow witch, gesturing towards the others.

"Aren't they awake yet?"

"I don't think so" replied the brunette, looking over at the grandmother clock that stood by the door. "But look at the time!"

Like most magic clocks, this one didn't have numbers or digits on it. It had been made to show the times that would be important to Hogwarts students – _"Breakfast", "Lessons", "Lunch", "Dinner", "Bedtime",_ and _"You really should be studying now, you know!" The single, pointed hand of the clock had now left 'Bedtime' and was worryingly close to 'Breakfast'. The redhead saw this, and pursed her lips in thought._

"You know what we have to do now, don't you?"

"What?"

"What do you think?" Susan grinned mischievously. "We run around and wake them up!"

~*~

When the five girls finally got down to the Great Hall for breakfast, they found that the boys were already there. Ernie and Justin were having a lively debate about muggle versus magical sport, Antony was struggling to keep his tired eyes open, and David was staring absentmindedly up at the paintings that hung on the wall next to the Hufflepuff table. Typically relaxed, his tie was hanging open around his neck as he chewed on a piece of toast. Julian was nowhere to be seen.

"Morning ladies!" David hailed, taking another bite. "How are we this morning?"

"We'd be better if you didn't speak with your mouth full" Hannah said disdainfully, taking a seat next to Sally-Anne. "Honestly, you'd think you hadn't seen food for a month, the way you're eating!"

David didn't take this telling off too seriously, and instead took a swig of pumpkin juice from the goblet in front of him. "You can't go to classes on an empty stomach, Han. They might not be doing anything difficult in today's classes, but you've still got to be alert. Call it the Ravenclaw in me" he said, seeing the suspicious look on his friends' faces. "Just because I don't want to be too clever doesn't mean I want to be stupid, either!" Everyone laughed. 

"Speaking of clever, does anyone know what class we've got first?" called Ernie from the end of the table. "They'd better not give us anything too hard straight away!"

"That's where Julian's gone, mate" David shot back. "Collecting timetables. He should be back in a minute." Turning round towards the doors of the Hall, he saw the dark haired boy enter, eyes poring over a sheet of parchment in his hand. "Bloody 'ell, I've got good timing!"

When Julian reached the top of the oak table, they could see a stack of envelopes in his grasp, not totally dissimilar to the letters they had received accepting them into Hogwarts. With one eye still on his own sheet, he sat down between Antony and Ernie and dropped everyone else's in a pile next to the butter dish, and a scramble ensued as each young Hufflepuff made a grab for the envelopes. 

"No point in rushing" said the half Italian, who put down his copy of the timetable and reached for the fruit bowl. Attention focused on him, and for a second there was no sound other than the solid crunch of Julian's teeth into apple flesh. "We've got a free lesson first."

 Suddenly, Antony spoke, barely able to lift his head from his crossed arms. "Thank Merlin" he mumbled. "I need more sleep! What do we have second thing, then?"

"Herbology with Gryffindor" Rebecca answered, her quick eyes skimming over the timetable in front of her. "That'll be interesting – it's with Professor Sprout."

"The House Head?" Hannah interjected, looking up from her plate.

"The very same. Then we've got History of Magic, that's with Gryffindor again –"

"Oh no!"

This was from Rachel, her objection being not to having two lessons with Gryffindor one after the other, but with having History of Magic, a subject she already knew was boring, forced upon her on the very first day.

" – there's another free after that, and then we've got double Transfiguration with Ravenclaw in the afternoon." Rebecca finished, throwing her timetable back down with a flourish. "Doesn't sound too bad to me." She waggled her fingers in front of Rachel's face. "What's so bad about History of Magic, anyway?"

Rachel sighed. "It's all names and dates and wars, and people with stupid names like Denuras the Dangerous and Ivor the Idiot."

"Cool!" the boys chorused, all looking up at once.

"You would say that, you've never heard somebody go on about it for ages!"

"Still, at least we've got time to prepare for it first" reasoned David, who glanced up and down the table. "Now, where's the bacon?"

~*~

Professor Sprout, the Herbology mistress, taught her classes in what was undoubtedly Hogwarts' strangest teaching area. Whereas its companions were vast, imposing constructions made entirely of glass, Greenhouse Number One was a tiny building that looked like a bad Muggle builder had thrown it together in a tea break. The bottom of the greenhouse was encircled in an ochre red brick wall, thrown haphazardly together till it stood three feet high with holes every so often in the crumbling cement. The windows, even if a little dusty, were perfectly all right – but the roof itself was a different matter. A gaping hole at the back meant that a huge palm tree grew through it comfortably, and the whole structure looked as though even a weak spell would knock it clean off.

With that rather off-putting thought in mind, the chattering Hufflepuffs entered the class followed by the ten students from Gryffindor. The Professor, a stocky little woman who wasn't much taller than her students, glanced at each of them as she ran a pudgy finger down the register, ticking off each of them as she went. Every so often, she would stop at a name she recognised and tell anecdotes about that student's family. It made the students laugh, and did a lot to relax the tension that had been building in the humid air.

"Hannah Abbott?"

"Yes, Professor!"

"Ah, Miss Abbott. Anton's daughter, I presume?"

Hannah replied that she was, and felt her insides freeze as attention focused on her. She flicked a bug off her sleeve and tried to look calm. 

Professor Sprout leaned on her little trestle table and turned halfway towards the curious Gryffindors, eyes going misty as the memories replayed in her head. "As you know, I'm head of Hufflepuff House. But let me tell you something. I've been teaching for more than thirty years, and I've hardly taught a bigger joker, more of a scallywag than Anton Abbott. Such a lively lad, but I've never been able to bear teaching the hidden properties of Bengali Snake-wort since he was in my class of third years."

A quiet murmur of interest began to pass amongst both sets of students, and right at the back, a Gryffindor boy sprang up from his seat. "What did he do?" he said, eyes imploring her to relate the story further. "Er, Professor!" he added quickly, and plastered an innocent smile across his cheeky face as one of the girls elbowed him.

"He used the stuff to spike my tea. Gave me a green tongue and turned my hair purple for a week, so he did."

The class went silent for a moment, and the inquisitor, a cute little boy with cocoa skin and chocolate eyes, changed his expression from one of angelic goodness to one of awe – eyes popping out and jaw hanging towards the table in surprise. Then, as each of them imagined the tiny witch with shocking mauve hair instead of white flecked grey, a bubbling torrent of laughter spilled from the class. It started with the suppressed snorts from Gryffindors Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan, then flowed behind them to where the Gryffindor girls clenched their teeth together, trapping the giggles in their mouths. To their right, the Hufflepuff girls did their best to keep some sort of dignity – arms folded tightly across their stomachs, they were doubled over in spasms of silent sniggering. The Hufflepuff boys, who sat straight in front of the Professor, showed no self-restraint at all. The spluttering of Justin, Julian and Ernie as they held their heads in their hands was matched only by the carousing of Antony and David, who took one look at each other before slapping the desk and emitting huge, belly laughs that nearly raised the precariously balanced roof.

It took some time for the first years to calm down again, understandably so, as this was the first they'd ever heard of someone actually being able to pull off a prank like that on a fully trained witch. As the last of the chuckles died away, Professor Sprout shook her head, and with a knowing smile continued her way down the register.

"Rachel Bagshot?"

"Yes, Professor!"

"Dear me, we do have the famous names here today, don't we?" the teacher said. Much to Rachel's relief, she didn't elaborate for the rest of the class on exactly what she meant.

"Susan Bones?"

"Yes, Professor!"

By now, the Hufflepuff head felt like it was going to be one of those days. 

Still further she continued, past the names of Lavender Brown, Caroline Creevey, Rebecca and Justin, Seamus, Julian, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom. Ernie was on the receiving end of a suspicious glance – leaving him to wonder just how much his older siblings had actually paid attention in Herbology classes – as was David (which shocked no-one who'd got to know him over the past twenty four hours). Following this early display of doubt, Parvati and Sally-Anne, who were next on the register, were extremely relieved to get away with just an acknowledging nod of the head. 

Next, of course, came "Harry Potter!"

Antony and David, hidden away in the corner, simultaneously rolled their eyes to the ceiling as the Professor burbled the bespectacled boy's name in excitement, and then looked him with an air of someone who was seriously impressed. The look on David's face said it all. If the History of Magic teacher reacted in a similar way, the first day of Hogwarts' classes would end with most of the new intake throwing themselves off the ramparts in indignation. 

"Ah yes" Sprout sighed, looking at Harry's name contentedly. "You're another one whose father I taught, actually! Not in the same year, thank goodness – otherwise I'd be long retired! Now, where was I?" She ran her free hand through her thick grey locks, and eventually found Dean Thomas' name on the register. Apart from nearly fainting when she called for Ron Weasley, and shooting another venomous glance at Antony, the Herbology mistress was quite sane.

Ticking off the last name with a flourish, she placed the register back down on the table in front of her. Appearing to be more of her cheerful self, now that the complicated introductions were out of the way, she clapped her hands together, her voice was full of glee.

"Right chaps! For your first lesson, we shall be drawing and labelling the structure of a very important plant, and listing the five things we need to do to take care of it. Now, first of all I would like you to take out your quills and your notebooks – "

Almost acting as one, the class reached into their respective bags and did as they were told.

"Put on your dragon-hide gloves – "

More apprehensively this time, twenty sets of protective gloves were pulled on.

"And go and collect yourself a Sabre-toothed Venus Fly Trap!"

_~~ * THE END * ~~_

**A/N:** This chapter is for Wannabe Hobbit, who suggested Herbology with Gryffindor as their first class. I hope you liked it!

This was another one that was difficult to write, but in case any of you noticed that little actually happened – bear with me, there * is * a reason for that, I promise you! I think you'll all be able to guess what the class' reaction was to dealing with a giant-toothed plant on their first day was anyway, but I'll deal with the aftermath of Herbology in my next chapter. Even as I write this A/N, I'm coming up with some (hopefully) exciting plot twists that I know I'm going to enjoy writing, so I can't wait till the moment I'll be able to get them to you!

Now, on to the reviewers: for each and every one of you, I am eternally grateful. To the leaders of the ITNOH repeat-review community (that's Kat Hallowell, Rachel Perez and Wannabe Hobbit for the uninitiated!) – I'm even more grateful, if that's possible. Continued support = happy shewhodares = more Hufflepuff adventures! Oh, and as it was raised in a review for "The Feast", the Hufflepuff common room password ('Brassica Oleracea') * is * Latin (well done WH!), although I never learned it, I just looked it up in one of my mother's gardening books. It means 'Brussels Sprout', and is what is known in literary circles as "a-godawful-shewhodares-attempt-at-a-subtle-pun" :-)

And to my newest repeat reviewer, everyone wave hello to Adele! * Heather waves *

Hun, you're another one who is far too sweet! I was really, really touched by what you said, it honestly means a lot coming from an author who herself has received so many kind words, which applies to Kat, Rachel and WH as well, but you know what I mean :-) I'm glad it was an antidote to your working day, although I'm afraid over the next month or so you might have to wait a while for the next chapter/s, due to my finals that are coming up. Nooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!! Roll on summer and freedom!

**Kisses, hugs, and for anyone who actually made it this far, a pat on the back!**

**~ * shewhodares * ~**


	8. Snake in the grass

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

Snake in the grass.

~*~

It had been a somewhat strange first day for the young students from Hufflepuff. Their very first lesson, Herbology, had seen them given a Sabre-toothed-Venus Fly Trap to draw and label – a task that had resulted in seven screaming females, two boys with bruised legs after falling to the floor with fright, and Hannah Abbott having to be escorted to the hospital wing after being bitten on the arm by her own specimen. 

At least, David thought, the worst was over for now.

Professor Sprout – the matronly woman who had been teaching the class at the time – had taken it all in her stride, reassuring the frightened young witch that a visit to Madam Pomfrey would soon get her back to normal, and asked David to go along to explain to the Nurse what had happened. Slightly worrying, however, was the way she whispered out of the side of her mouth for him to "get on with it".

It was this instruction that meant the oldest of the Hufflepuff boys was now strolling casually back from the hospital wing, hands in robe pockets, and wondering what on Merlin's earth he was supposed to do now. Madam Pomfrey had hurriedly ushered him away from Hannah's bedside, and the last he saw of his friend was an arm with wide rivulets of blood gently weeping down her pale skin. David had to actually shake his head to make the unpleasant sight disappear. He was still distracted.

He walked in silence, the soft footfalls of his sports-shoe clad feet resounding off the solid stone walls around him, imposing and somewhat dangerous. The portrait of a fearsome looking warlock glared down at him from his frame – hooked nose pointing straight at him as he demanded the reason for his presence. David ignored him and carried on his way.

At the top of the granite staircase, however, he paused and tried to focus on what had just grabbed his attention. Classes were not quite over in this quiet part of the castle – the hospital wing was a couple of floors above the dungeons where Professor Snape terrified countless Potions students – yet he could hear another set of feet pacing the floor of the corridor below. Despite his legitimate reason for not being in Herbology, David couldn't stop thinking that Argus Filch, the only person likely to be prowling the corridors at that time, was unlikely to be sympathetic of Hannah's condition. He decided to make like a Gryffindor, and confront the oppressive caretaker.

~ * ~

But it wasn't Filch who David met on reaching the bottom of the stairs. It was a student – a boy dressed in the green and silver of Slytherin – who didn't appear to be much older than himself. His back was partially turned against David, and his nonchalance, when paired with a naturally intimidating demeanour, made for a particularly confusing contrast. The Hufflepuff found himself imprisoned by the stranger's presence, as if Devil's Snare had suddenly sprouted from the floor and trapped his feet. He was going nowhere while this boy wanted him to stay – that was for certain.

Slowly, savouring every second's worth of command held over the unwilling captive, the Slytherin turned round. A self-satisfied smirk began to creep across his sculpted face as he took in the good-natured human being who was the natural opposite of himself – though both were tall, the lurker overshadowed David by a good few inches and had dagger sharp folds of hair that fell harshly into his face. There was an overwhelming aura of dark about him – as if childhood naivety had been pulled away too soon, leaving him unable to blend in with the happy-go-lucky students of the rest of the year. It was then that David recognised him.

~*~

"Nott? Nott?"

All of a sudden, David again had to shake himself free of the unfamiliar sensation in his mind, the feeling of something invading his senses.

"For goodness sake, Nott, I've been speaking to you for an age as it is. You Hufflepuffs must be deaf as well as stupid."

Suddenly, clarity returned to him. As he looked up and met the stranger's eyes properly, intimidation was replaced by disgust.

"Moon" he glared. "What the hell do you want?"

There was a turbulent pause, in which there was only the sound of David's heavy breathing – his chest rising and falling as he clenched his fists in anger. This particular Slytherin seemed to have that effect on people.

"Call me Alec, please" he replied, regarding the other boy with the type of disdain normally reserved for a puddle of mud – a contaminating substance that marred his presence. "After all, when in the same boat, you need to know your sailors. Now, don't look at me like that – " he said, cutting David off with a graceful sweep of his robed arm, "we both know that you're going to be found out sooner or later." Alec finished with a sneer. "I wonder what your precious little housemates would think if they knew everything? But of course, Hufflepuff fairness! I forgot! They'd probably jump off the top of the Astronomy Tower if you asked them to."

David muttered something under his breath. 

"Now, now, Nott, you don't want to be getting angry with me! Remember – _I know_."

The Hufflepuff looked up. "What do you mean, you know?"

The taller boy slowly took a step closer. "I know who you really are" he said sharply. "Don't you remember the Sorting Ceremony? How that hat took ages to decide with you when it placed your housemates within seconds? You're a fool if you think people aren't going to start making connections. Your name is well known, remember – but you aren't the only Nott in Hogwarts. Remember that, Hufflepuff?" 

He turned on his heels and began to walk away, leaving his rival to sink with his back against the wall.

"Look, why are you talking about all this?" David croaked, his voice becoming hoarse in the unyielding tension around him. "We've got nothing to do with each other! If you know about him, you must know that, as well!"

Alec stood still, calling back to him over his shoulder, his voice strong and clear.

"Because you can't hide from who you are forever, you know. That sorting of yours was a fluke. I don't know how you did it, but eventually, he'll catch up with you and put things right! You can't cheat him."

"Cheat who?"

The Slytherin laughed emptily. There was no feeling in that laugh – nothing but pure ferocity, and David couldn't help but wince. The knot in his stomach grew only tighter as the oppressor turned back to face him again, hands casually folded across his chest, clearly enjoying every minute.

"You really don't have a clue, do you?"

David gasped, and bent double in pain.

"Nott, you're hiding from your bloodlines! What do you think's going to happen? I'm telling you to join your rightful side now and save yourself! I'm not one to chase the dark, even if I am Slytherin to the core – "

"Then WHY ARE YOU BOTHERING! I DON'T NEED – YOUR – HELP!" David yelped, spitting the words out through tightly clenched teeth. "Just leave me alone!"

"Suit yourself, then" Alec shrugged, placing his hands in his pockets. "I was merely saying that I'm not the one you're going to get trouble from. The rest of my house might not be so lax. I've been waiting to tell you that – you stand out, I stand out. If we try and hide too long, we'll be going down together, so don't get on my bad side, Nott."

He stopped, as if dwelling on this possibility.

"Remember – Slytherins do what's best for Slytherin."

_~~ * THE END * ~~_

**A/N:** YAY! I actually get a chapter finished, go me! : dances to herself :

For those of you who don't know, I've also got a new chapter of "Poppy Skeeter's Very Secret Diary" up, so take a look at that if you can.

Anyway, I forget who reviewed the last chapter so I can't really do thanks, although thanks to my repeat reviewers – Kat, Wannabe, Hayley and Adele – hopefully this chapter was worth the wait! 'Tis a build up to my big storyline, although I promise there's lighter stuff to come as well – just you wait and see ;) 

Finally, for those of you who read "The Magic of the Night", I'll be getting back on to that soon – I just need to find my Act Two script. The chapter covering the interval isn't actually going to be in the story, as it's kind of off topic (and with a different rating) I'm going to plan it properly and do it as a one-shot. So expect Act 2 Scene One as soon as a) I can be bothered writing it and b) Megumi can beta it and get it back to me.

**So, plenty of works in progress!**

**~ * shewhodares * ~**


	9. Flying home for Christmas?

**Disclaimer –** I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

~*~

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_shewhodares_****__**

_Flying_ home for Christmas?

~*~

A carousing tumult outside of the dormitory woke Rachel with a jolt early that Friday morning, nearly giving her the fright of her life. It had started as a chorus of excited voices outside of the seventh years' dorms at the bottom of the underground passageway, moved on through each of the older students' rooms, where a student with a set of Muggle bongos had joined the fray, and arrived with a bang at the last pair of rooms before the back entrance to the Hufflepuff Common Room. Before she had time to fully register what was happening, a sharp _rat-a-tat-tat of a knock was being hammered out on the girls' front door._

"Abbott, Bagshot, Bones, Fawcett and Perks! Come on, get your pretty selves out of bed and get your stuff ready! We're leaving tomorrow, you don't want to miss the last larks of term to be doing your packing, do you?"

The voice, a female one, sounded familiar to her. The slight problem was it had joined in a chorus of "Bernard the Christmas Hippogriff" and left before she could find out who it was. However, the passageways of The Sett were now silent, and Rachel took comfort in the thought of Professor Snape's face at breakfast when he realised that the sixth years of the black and yellow house were his last class of the year.

~*~

On her arrival at the Great Hall, the identities of the culprits of the Hufflepuff morning mass revelry were revealed. She should have guessed – three boys, who were in fits of giggles at something, a pretty blonde girl unknown to her, and two more girls that Rachel recognised from the start of term feast – none other than Verity Vector and Kat Kiely. All six were wearing bright red Santa hats.

Verity, who motioned for Rachel to join them with a swift flick of her hand, was notably not wearing her tiny, yellow prefect badge. In its place was a large Hippogriff pin, covered in flashing lights had a button on its stomach. As the first year slid into place at the long table, the brunette, who had a wicked glint in her eye, pressed it. It began to sing.

_"Bernard the Christmas Hippogriff_

_had__ a very shiny beak_

_and__ those who ever saw him_

_used__ to call him a f – "_

"Ssh!" whispered the random blonde. "Snape's looking this way!"

Indeed, the Slytherin House Head had one of his beetle-black eyes fixed upon the table on the far right of the hall. It was lucky for the party people that his eyes were distracted by a group of Gryffindors playing Exploding Snap at their table, otherwise he would have seen the now infamous bongos being passed along under the table, away from danger. 

"Thank Merlin" gasped Verity sarcastically, quickly cutting off the song before Snape could locate where it was coming from. "It really wouldn't do to get into trouble before we even get into his class, would it?"

"So this is for _his benefit" Rachel guessed, gesturing at the green and silver strands of tinsel around the two girls' necks. "Didn't think it was a new addition to the uniform"._

"Hey, you, don't be cheeky to your elders!"

This was from Kat, who had been watching the youngster's mystified reaction with a wry grin. "This is a Hufflepuff Christmas tradition!"

"What, bothering Snape? We do that all year!" retorted the owner of the bongos. "And it's a Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tradition as well!"

The seven laughed. 

"So, what are you planning? Some sort of prank in his class?"

"Yep, in ours" replied Verity, gesturing to herself and the blonde. "This is Beth, she's in my year. One last jape before we go home, eh?"

"Mmm, if you say so. I still think it's going to be trouble to try and pull a fast one on Snape, though" muttered her partner in crime, who was trying to avoid another filthy look from said teacher. "If this jeopardises my Potions final…"

"Oh, stop it with your stuff about grades and rules. You sound like a Ravenclaw!" 

"Behave yourselves, you two" said Kat. "At least you get a last prank – oh, I wish I was going to be in there! It'll be great!"

"What exactly is it that you're doing?" Rachel wondered aloud, thinking it must be good if even the well behaved Head Girl wanted to be part of it. 

"Never you mind". 

Verity had tapped Rachel jokingly on the nose with her wand. 

"I'll write to you in the holidays and tell you about it – if we survive Snape's wrath. Have you got some paper?"

~*~

A rather strange sound greeted Sally-Anne as she entered the underground passageways of The Sett. 

"Stop it! _Stop it! Ugh!..........get a grip, David, control yourself – ach! There's no bloody use!"_

Then the sound of a book meeting heavily with the wooden wall. 

Frustration, anger, fear – all those things personified and given a voice. A voice that was both familiar and unfamiliar to her at the same time; a voice that both sounded as though it should have belonged to a boy her age, yet couldn't possibly. She'd never heard David speak in a tone that was anything less than jovial before. 

And she didn't like it one bit.

_~ * THE END * ~_

**A/N: _Thank  goodness__ – finished at last! _**I've got **Adele and ****Lucy Lupin to thank for giving me a well deserved kick up the backside where this is concerned.**

You may be wondering why exactly I took so long. Well, dear chums, it's not because of writer's block. Not entirely, anyway. I had planned on continuing the mystery with David for the whole chapter, but I had an idea in my head that'll need a lot of building up to, and to publish it straight away would be too sudden a change in tone. It'll fit in pretty much anywhere as it is. On the plus side, I figured that I needed to skip through to Christmas, this chapter gave me the perfect excuse to do so, and even better, it means that the next chapter is pretty much written! Woo hoo! I'll try to get it done as soon as possible (I go back to University around the tenth).

Finally, for those of you who haven't been there before, I have a LiveJournal at - if you want to keep more up to date with what I'm doing, and to get the first details of when I'm actually writing, this is the site to go to.

On another note, anyone who reads, writes or simply enjoys the Draco/Hermione ship to any extent should visit my new site, _The thin line between love and hate (). I'm the site Administrator, Hannah Abbott. If you join, send me a PM telling me that you joined from ff.net!_

On yet another note, for those of you who haven't visited already, go to if you want to enjoy a really good HP message board. I'm the Head of Ravenclaw there, and I go by the name of Rowena Ravenclaw. 

**Ta ta for now,**

_Shewhodares_

_xx_


	10. Owl Post Again

**Disclaimer – **I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple! Oh, and I borrowed the title from JKR too. It's hers, not mine in the slightest.

_In the name of Helga: Year One_

**_Hazel Whinlatter_**

Owl post again

_Salford, __England__ – December 1991_

_Dear Rachel_

_Helloooooooooo__! How are you m'dear? As you can probably tell from the fact that this letter got to you in the first place, I made it back from Kings Cross safely enough and am now enjoying the 'high life' here at home. I say safely, but if you see any blood on the sheet, it's my owl (Bobby)'s fault. Bit my finger when he saw I was writing a letter, the lazy little sod._

_I didn't see much of you on the train. Sorry for that, but Snape got just a little bit miffed following that prank of ours and insisted to Sprout that we should be kept in isolation during the journey home. I don't think he thought we were very funny. At least Lenny kept hold of his bongos – we'll be needing them for revenge!_

_Oh yes, the infamous prank. Bet you're dying to find out what it was, eh? Don't worry, you'll find out in due course. All I need is a piece of magical photography paper from the Wizarding Supplies shop. Could take a few weeks before I get the galleons, but when I do – dear Merlin, you'll love it. _

_I wouldn't recommend sending your reply back with Bobby, by the way. Judging from the look he gave me just now, he'll be out to commit grievous bodily harm on the next witch or wizard who gives him a job to do. _

_Yours bleedingly (laugh at my name and I'll send you some undiluted Bubotuber pus with my next letter),_

_Verity Veronica Vector_

_xxx_

**Newcastle**** – upon – ****Tyne****England**** – December 1991**

**Dear ****Antony**

**I do hope this letter gets to you alright. I'm still not used to this sending letters by owl business – for a Muggle born, it's an odd thing to get used to. Floo powder's even worse. Rebecca's staying with me at the moment and forgot to mention how she was getting here – Mum nearly had a heart attack when she saw her stroll out of the fire during the news. Especially as we don't even have a proper fire. **

**I think she'll take a while to adjust to me being a witch. Not to mention the logic of having to go all the way down to London to get the train to Hogwarts – it'd take about a quarter of the time to get there from here! **

**Anyway, that's not really the reason I wrote to you. You're best mates with David, right? I was just wondering if you'd heard from him lately – I mean, if you have, has he said that anything's wrong with him? I'm a little bit worried, to be honest. I didn't want to say whilst we were still at school – you never know who's going to overhear – but I overheard the strangest thing on the Friday morning. I was walking into the dormitory corridor from the common room, and the door to the first year boys' dorm was a little bit open – you know how it's right opposite ours? I heard him talking to somebody. I knew it couldn't have been you, or Ernie or Justin, because I'd just left you lot at breakfast. Rachel was there too, and the other girls were still in bed when I got back, so it couldn't have been any of them. Julian was in the common room, so it can't have been him, either. **

**On top of that, what he was saying just didn't make any sense – he was telling someone to "stop it", but how could that be right if he was on his own? He sounded like he was really getting angry and upset, and then he told whoever it was to go away and threw a book! The thing is, you know what David's like. He's really confident and outgoing and never scared – it scares me to think what could be bad enough to get to him. Do you think someone at school could be having a go? Anyway, I wrote a letter to _him_ as well, asking him if he was alright and everything, and this is what I got back. There's definitely something wrong with him, ****Antony****. He's our friend, we need to help. **

**Hope you can make more sense of this than me.**

**Sal**

**xxx**

_**Manchester**_**_England_****_ – December 1991_**

**_Dear Sally-Anne,_**

**_Didn't think you were the eavesdropping type (just kidding). Listen, I don't know exactly what it was that you heard but don't worry about me. I'm fine. I used to talk in my sleep when I was little, it probably just started again. New surroundings and all that._**

**_Hope you're having a fun holiday,_**

**_David_**

Leeds, England – December 1991

Dear Miss Verity Veronica Vector (snigger),

Aaaw, come on, I bet you weren't serious about the Bubotuber pus. That's too much of a Slytherin thing to do!

Seriously, what was with this joke in Snape's class? All I can work out from what you've said so far is that it involves Christmas, house colours, Bernard the Christmas Hippogriff and photographic evidence. Surely a bit of info won't hurt?

Rachel

X

_Salford__England__ – December 1991_

_Dear Miss Bagshot – _

_Want to bet? You'd better get some bandages ready sweetheart :p Anyway, as for our antics in Potions class, I'm all ready to tell you the tale behind it now. But I hope you're sitting comfortably, as it's a bit of a long haul._

_We already knew that Snape wouldn't be on time for class – we'd ensured that would happen already by telling Bubble, one of the house elves, about his sore throat. You know what they're like, such bleeding hearts – as we predicted, Bubble accosted him as he was leaving the hall and wouldn't let him leave (she kept insisting to him that he should come back to the kitchens with her for some honey and lemon). Of course, Snape being Snape, didn't take her up on the offer and apparently muttered something like not being certain there'd be anything left of the dungeon if a class with Hufflepuff sixth years were left to their own devices in it._

_Anyway, when you get into NEWT Potions, he tends to write up the basic notes and instructions on the board so you can get on without him actually having to interact with any students. He also tells you what Potion you'll be studying a class in advance – which was an essential part of the plan. Ever heard of Veritaserum? Its active ingredient is essence of wormwood root, which, if you leave out, is basically a Potion that doesn't make the drinker tell the truth, but instead renders them unable to control themselves entirely. _

_So, we figured that if you add essence of wormwood leaf instead (get me, I got 104 on my Potions OWL!), what you'd end up with is a Potion that mimics the actions of that person when drunk. Kat read about it in an old 'Daily Prophet' article about how truth potions were discovered – something to do with wanting to copy Muggle drinking games without getting hangovers and getting confused – and let us in on the info._

_Back to the present.__ We were able to start brewing the potions before Snape got to class, and to cut a longer story into something less long, add the leaf essence instead of root essence without him noticing (I think the Ravenclaws in our class had thought we'd finally gone mad under the pressure). And finally, in comes the Professor, cheerfully as usual, who looks straight at me and says – bearing in mind I'm still wearing green and silver tinsel round my neck – _

_"Miss Vector, if any of my students were to make spectacles of themselves this year I would have thought it to be a Gryffindor. Provided that the no doubt amusing anecdote doesn't prevent you from completing today's task on time, would you care to explain yourself?"_

_I said back to him – "Sir, I just thought by wearing Slytherin colours for the day I'd show a bit of Christmas spirit. Somebody had to."_

_Cue sharp intake of breath from the blue half of the class._

_Miserable git glared in my general direction and as he was replying, starts to scribble a note on a bit of scrap parchment, which he eventually folded up and gave back to me. "No doubt that your insolence wasn't deliberate, Miss Vector," he rasped, " as I was under the impression from your past examination performances that you actually cared about your Potions marks. However, your rudeness and over exuberance has disturbed my class, and I wish you to take this note to your House Head, to inform her that you shall not be performing your Prefect duties at the start of next term as you shall be in detention with me."_

_Rotter__ Still, it had the desired effect as it meant I could leave the room, taking a small vial of the modified potion with me. And who should I come across on my way out of the dungeon? You guessed it, none other than darling Bubble the house elf, with some of her home-made remedy. Doesn't it just tell you what Snape's like when only a house-elf wants to help him out? In any case, Bubble tottered up to me with this huge goblet full of sloshing goo, and says – "Miss Verity! Is you knowing where Professor Snape is? Bubble is worried, miss – his throat is not going to be getting any better if he is not taking anything for it!" Bless._

_Like all house-elves, Bubble will stop at nothing to help her masters, so we knew that one of them, if not Bubble herself, would come up from the kitchens at some point. "Bubble", I said, "would you like me to take that to the Professor for you? He's teaching in the dungeons at the moment, and you're not big enough to open the doors and carry that goblet as well." _

_Once she'd gone, it was lets-spike-the-teacher's-drink time._

_Hang on, I've run out of parchment – I'll send this for now and write to you with the rest of it when I've got some more._

_V xx _

**Little Groaning, ****England**** – December 1991**

**Sally,**

**That's odd – sleep-talking? He's never mentioned that before, or done it, since he's been here. And why would he be having adjustment troubles three months after the event? Not to mention that he can't even have been sleep talking at all. He was one of the first awake in our dorm that morning – I remember getting out of bed and seeing him putting his tie on. **

**He's definitely hiding something. Write if you find out anything else.**

**Take care,**

**Antony**

_Salford__England__ – December 1991_

_Rachel,_

_Sorry about that. You know what it's like when you run out of stationery. Especially if you're anything like me, and your only supply comes from the stuff you nick from a Hogwarts stationery cupboard. Not used to going out and getting my own, ha ha!_

_So, where was I? Oh yes, the sore throat cure. Anyway, courtesy of Bubble, I'd got the goblet full of drink, and as I'm sure you've guessed by now, when she turned her back to return to the kitchens, I quickly slipped the modified serum into the cure. Of course, Snape was none too pleased to see me so soon after sending me out of the class and I genuinely thought he was going to hex me so fast I'd never forget it!_

_"Miss Vector", he drawls in that funny way of his (did you realise that some people in this school actually find that sexy? Ugh. Anyway I shouldn't be talking to you about that…too young as you are to hear about notions of such depravity!), "I suggest you quickly explain yourself, or you will soon be wearing that goblet for a novelty Christmas accessory, seeing as you appear to be so fond of them."_

_"Sorry, Professor" I replied, "but one of the House-Elves accosted me in the corridor and wouldn't let me leave until I promised to give you this!"_

_I walked forward and put the goblet on his desk, and the greasy git muttered something under his breath about House-Elves and popping. Never let it be said that Slytherins don't have a sense of humour – albeit shockingly bad ones. Now, Snape's throat must have been really bad because he downed the thing without even questioning. More fool him!_

_I turned round to leave the room again, and just as I left, slipped off the Slytherin coloured garlands I'd been wearing and gave them to Lenny. I didn't go straight to Sprout though – I'm not that daft – but instead snuck behind the door and pulled a camera out of my pocket that I'd borrowed from one of the Muggle-born Ravenclaws. He looked at me like I'd grown an extra head when I asked him to show me how it worked and that it'd be worth it in the end. All I had to do then was wait. And not for long, either – you'll find out later in school that anything similar to veritaserum works almost immediately. _

_As soon as he's finished the last drop, he sort of stumbled backwards and grabbed the table like he needed to steady himself. Cassie Newman nearly blew it by looking at the door and giggling, silly bint. Then he gets up, looks around the classroom and blows it all off with a glare, telling everyone to "get on with your work. You should be at the next stage of the procedure about now. I will walk around the room and inspect your work." Perfect._

_He started with the Ravenclaws over on the right, meaning that he had his back to Lenny. A quick spot of wand-work (the Weasley twins might be great pranksters, but this guy does his bit for Hufflepuff pride easily enough), and he'd charmed one of the garlands I'd left him yellow and black, another blue and bronze, and the one he'd been wearing maroon and gold. Unfortunately – for Snape – the neglection of his cauldron meant that its contents suddenly started spewing black smoke smelling of burning rubber, catching the Prof's attention and causing most of the class to Bubble-head themselves pretty sharpish. Storming over to the table – as best as he could seeing as the potion he'd taken was now making him rock from side to side like Marcus Flint after two bottles of Butterbeer – with all his focus on our hero, Cassie and a trusty Ravenclaw called Richard (the one who lent me the camera, had to let him in on things after that favour) levitated the garlands away from Lenny's lap and around Snape's neck. Fastest Levitation charms I've ever seen! Now the Prof's less resembling one of his own house after an average visit to the Three Broomsticks, and more like a Gryffindor team beating Slytherin for the Quidditch Cup. In other words, he's nigh paralytic. _

_The two people nearest him leap up and grab him under each arm with the pretence of helping him stay on his feet, to which he replies "Yessssh, thanksh…uhhhm, whaaaaa?" or, words to that effect anyway. Words? Well, you know what I mean._

_This is where I jump from behind the door, yell "now!", and Lenny gets the Prof with one of McGonagall's switching spells – doubt she'd approve of our interpretation of it, mind – that turn his robes a fetching shade of Magenta and cause him to suddenly be sporting a Father Christmas hat, just like Bernard the Christmas Hippogriff. _

_The force from Lenny's spell was bloody brilliant, because the flash of light it emitted meant that our victim (or as I like to put it, model) looked right up – and straight at me._

_The perfect photo opportunity._

_Even more perfect is that just like a night of heavy drinking, our modified serum causes complete memory loss, so once we left the class for dinner, Snape had no memory of events that day at all. In fact, the only regret I have from the whole proceedings is that my once-cute Bernard badge now has a horrible, lank black hair-piece and instead of singing when pressed, growls "I'll hex you into oblivion, young lady!" still, might make nice present for younger sister._

_Oh, and Kat'll kill me if I forget this bit…don't go getting ideas, young lady!_

_Yours cunningly,_

_VVV (hey, haven't I written enough?)_

**_Hogwarts_****_, December 1991_**

**_Father,_**

**_As you requested, I have made preparations to stay at school over the Christmas holidays to keep an eye on the Nott boy – disgrace to his kind that he is, as you quite rightly say. Hufflepuff indeed. It wouldn't surprise me if he'd somehow bribed the school to prevent himself being placed in Slytherin, as is his heritage. I have noticed that Dumbledore is just the sort to give in to any bleeding heart with a pathetic excuse. All I need to find out with regards to this is his motive. I will not let you down, Father. I promise to find out what he's been up to and remit the information as soon as possible. I assume this is all part of the Dark Lord's plan?_**

**_Unfortunately, Nott has been keeping himself to himself for much of this term, or remaining in the sole company of his house-mates. I have seen him particularly in the company of a boy named Whitley. A mudblood, no less (his father is Muggle). Perhaps this will be of some use to you._**

**_One thing I did find out is that he is very much weakened when in the presence of those with the knowledge of his past. He is worried about what his little friends will make of him. Very much so – that I know for sure! If you want me to get anything out of him, I can do it. A little manipulation and anything is possible, I think. Just let me know when the time is right, and I assure you that I know what to do._**

**_Always in your service,_**

**_Your ever obedient son._**

THE END 

**A/N: **Ah, you didn't think I'd give all my plot away, did you? Muhahaha. The identity of the letter writer is being kept under wraps just for now…but feel free to guess!

I apologise again for the long wait…I make this one ten or eleven months (oops!) but I assure you this was merely to do with workload at Uni issues and not a desire to drop writing fanfic entirely. I'm hoping to get back into the habit now and balance things more.

Anyway, I'm totally loving my characters so I'd never abandon them. Tell me what you think and I hope this was worth the wait!

**shewhodares **


	11. Constant Vigilance

**Disclaimer – **I borrowed some ideas for this chapter from "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone" which is JKR's. Bits you don't recognise are mine. Simple!

_In the name of Helga : Year One_

**_Shewhodares_**

Constant Vigilance

There were times when the Hufflepuff common room, nicknamed 'The Sett', was a hive of activity. In the early mornings, when the students headed out past the ivy curtain on their way to breakfast, it was very much one way traffic. At other times, the domed room was full to the brim with excitable people having a party – as Verity, Chaser on the house Quidditch team had told the first years, this was any time they lost a match by less than two hundred points. As Professor Snape perhaps unfairly had taken to pointing out when said student returned to Hogwarts triumphant after the holidays, these were events none too plentiful.

This, however, was neither one of those times.

The clock on the wall next to the mantelpiece read "much too late" as Susan Bones beavered away at her History of Magic essay at a worktable in the corner. She sighed as she looked up at the oil lamp hanging up the ceiling, staring into it as if searching for an answer that definitely lay within, if only she looked hard enough. The light drew her gaze back downwards to the sheet of parchment upon which it pooled, bringing her attention back to the task in hand.

Pausing as she scratched the tip of her nose with the bright blue quill in her hand, she leaned forward and struck out a word in the title. "The importance of pureblooded wizarding families and the establishment of the current magical world – discuss" was what it had said, making the situation unremarkable for two reasons. One, it was an essay for Professor Binns, who, having been long dead, was a traditional sort. Two, she was not, and disliked having to separate herself from her Muggleborn friends using the concept of one type of heritage being "purer" than another.

_A stupid idea_, she thought, putting "old" in its place. She didn't relish seeing the expression on Binns' pallid face when he saw her spot of editing, however. She growled quietly to herself as she threw down the quill in frustration.

_It's been nearly four hours and I'm still nowhere with this! _

A sudden gasp behind her made her jump, gripping the side of her seat in fear as she turned to see its cause. The danger was non existent, however, as the sound originated merely from a sleeping Justin expelling air from his lungs as he slept uncomfortably on the sofa in front of the fire. She smiled at the sight – he and Rebecca had spent the day pouring over maps of the country, debating whether the geographical origins of the families going furthest back in history had anything to do with it, and of so, how on earth they were going to use the information gathered. Scotland now furled around Justin like a blanket – the other side of the map pulled down by Rebecca's head, which covered the English Channel.

The only one of their group who wasn't present at that point was David, who had stormed out of the room earlier that evening saying something about seeing a man about a Niffler. _That boy, _Susan had muttered to herself before attempting to continue with her homework. Refusing to ever work late into the night as his friends did, she simply assumed that he couldn't sleep and had gone for a midnight stroll around the castle. He'd been doing that a lot recently, the increasingly odd behaviour that had unnerved Sally-Anne before Christmas still manifesting itself on occasions even though it was now nearly Easter. What Susan didn't know was that the further into the school year they got, the more often her housemate had been plagued by nightmares of horrors perhaps only she could imagine.

One last glance at the glowing lamp above her was enough to convince the red-head of the course of action she needed to take. Taking the quill back between her fingers, she touched it to the parchment and began to write.

"Ancient magical families often worked together in alliances. Any aspect of the wizarding world today at which you choose to look will depend on which familial alliance you choose to examine in detail. For example, the Pinkstone family combined with the Prewetts in order to make relations between the magical and non-magical communities run more smoothly."

It had to be said, this bright idea of hers was brought to her by a list of family lines and friendships listed in the back of 'A History of Magic'. She was sure that the author's granddaughter, Hufflepuff's very own Rachel Bagshot, wouldn't object. In fact, Rachel's tolerance for her elder's specialty was so low that she'd probably have suggested it herself, were she not curled up next to the coffee table, empty bottle of butterbeer in hand.

Susan grinned to herself in triumph as she finished the paragraph with a flourish, before turning back to the notoriously dull tome in front of her to seek more people to write about. In their tiredness, however, her eyes had skipped over a group of three surnames listed together before Pinkstone, that the author had chosen to capitalise and annotate with the words "highly significant to the movement aiming for greater power for wizards. Also, longtime opponents of the Pinkstone-Prewett alliance."

The names were Malfoy, Moon and Nott.

THE END

**A/N: **My apologies for the long time in getting this chapter up – over Christmas I was deserted not only by my muse but by the notebook in which I had the rest of this fic entirely planned out. Oops. Still, I've changed some of my ideas and now I think forthcoming chapters are even better than they would have been. And I _did_ get this chapter done all in one evening, so go me (even if it was at the expense of getting reading for my French Law essay done, I had no inspiration for that anyway). For those of you who've read the whole story, the ending should be ringing alarm bells. Let's hear what ideas and thoughts you have about the new developments…review! Go on, you know you want to ;)

**Shewhodares**

**PS – **chapter dedicated to the lovely Hayley (Lucy Lupin) for mentioning the possibility of more "With a Little Help From my Friends" and writing a fun Arsenal FC ficlet, and to Gin (Ginevieve) for being heaps of fun. The both of you have been very supportive when it comes to fanfic writing and otherwise, and I appreciate it very much. Hugs for all!


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